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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



OVER THE ANDES 



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THE HEAD OF AN ARGENTINE STEER CAME ROUND THE CURVE. 



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OVER THE ANDES 



OUR BOYS IN NEW SOUTH AMERICA 



A TALE OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 



BY 



HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH 

AUTHOR OF "IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN," "BOYS OF GREENWAY 

COURT," "THE PATRIOT SCHOOLMASTER," 

"THE ZIG-ZAG BOOKS," ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

HENRY SANDHAM 







BOSTON, U.S.A. 

W. A. WILDE & COMPANY 

25 Bromfield Street 






flfVl- 4 







Copyright, 1897, 

By W. A. Wilde & Company., 

All rights reserved. 



OVER THE ANDES. 



<r 



1 



PREFACE. 



IN 1895 the writer made a journey from Southampton, 
England, to Buenos Ayres, and crossed the Cordillera 
by the Transandine railroad and by mule, and visited the 
port cities on the west coast, studying all available sources 
of information in regard to the prospects of these develop- 
ing countries, that several thoughtful writers have prophesied 
will one day rival the ancient nations of the world. 

We have been asked to give a view of what we saw and 
learned in a narrative lighted with historical incidents, stories, 
anecdotes, and pictures, in such a way as to interest the 
reader to seek larger information in historical and scientific 
works. This we have aimed to do. Since their independence, 
many of the Republics of the Sun have had a dramatic 
history. Their material progress has been associated with 
North American enterprise. To the antiquarian the equato- 
rial regions must ever be interesting, and to the naturalist 
the Gran Chaco is a wonderland. The story of the achieve- 
ments of William Wheelwright — who was shipwrecked at 
Buenos Ayres — to inaugurate a system of safe harbors, 
the Pacific Mail Navigation Company, and to plan the Trans- 
andine railroad, is one which the American boy may read 

5 



6 PREFACE. 

with profit. This man was the Franklin of the Andes, and 
the hero of peace, who fitly followed the accomplishment of 
the heroes of the liberation, — Bolivar and San Martin. 

The Transandine railroad, which we have endeavored 
to picture in the old cocoa trader's excursion with his two 
nephews, is to be one of the most important highways of 
the world. This via eminentia passes amid scenery in com- 
parison with which Mont Blanc, the monarch mountain of 
Europe, might wear Mt. Washington, the glory of New Eng- 
land, as a hood, and under its summits flow the two oceans 
of the principal ports of travel and trade. 

Sarmiento, the apostle of education in South America, the 
beneficent President of Argentina, and a friend of Horace 
Mann, Mrs. Mann, Charles Sumner, and Elizabeth Palmer 
Peabody, used to say that, "the primary school was the 
foundation of national character." Dom Pedro of Brazil 
had a like view. Sarmiento introduced the North American 
normal school into Argentina, and Dom Pedro sought to 
implant the kindergarten school in Brazil. The Froebel 
school is finding a place in the development of Argentine 
education. These facts will account for the character of 
Arline in our narrative. 

Ever since the Pan-American Congress, there has been 
a growing interest in our country in South American trade 
and opportunities for business. The two boys who figure 
in the narrative go to South America with an old merchant 
— a cocoa trader — to make a study of the history of the 
country and these commercial opportunities, a subject to 
which the sons of English and German merchants give 
much attention in preparation for a business life. 



PREFACE. 7 

The narrative follows the " Zigzag " plan of interpolated 
stories. We are indebted to the Review of Reviews and the 
Kindergarten Magazine for the use of some matter which 
we originally wrote for those periodicals, and to the Ladies 
Home Companion for permission to copy, in an abridged 
form, a story which we originally wrote for it, " The Little 
Goose that Came Back." The poem on San Martin appeared 
in the Buenos Ay res Herald, after the manner of the narra- 
tive, and the poem, " Night in the Andes," was originally 
contributed to a Madison Garden Charity Fair. 

Should the book find interested readers, we may continue 
the narrative through Mexico to the forests of Nicaragua, 
and the rivers and lake which are likely to form a part 
of the proposed gateway of the three Americas and two 
worlds — the Nicaragua Canal. 

28 Worcester Street, Boston, Mass. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 
Captain Frobisher's Stories of the Heroes of the Andes . . . .13 

CHAPTER II. 

Uncle Henry Frobisher, " Our Boys," and Arline 24 

CHAPTER III. 
Captain Henry's Story of "The Bell-Mule of the Andes " .... 35 

CHAPTER IV. 
"Our Boys" — Why they wished to visit South America — Arline causes a 

Surprise — She wishes to go to the Nitrate Desert of Tarapaca — Why? 43 

CHAPTER V. 

Why Arline wished to visit Peru — " Aunt Mary White, the Golden " — The 
Most Wonderful Birds in the World — The Inca Bird, whose Plumes 
were Jewels ............ 52 

CHAPTER VI. 

Uncle Henry at Home — Arline's Views of Elizabeth Peabody and Kinder- 
gartens — The Story of Professor Gould and his South American Observ- 
atory — Uncle Henry — New Holidays — His Story of "The Little 
Goose that came back" .......... 62 

CHAPTER VII. 

To La Guayra for Caracas — First View of the Andes — The People turn 

out to meet them — A Little List ....... 85 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Caracas and the Land of the Chocolate Plant ...... 92 

CHAPTER IX. 
Arline at the American Minister's — The Lantern of Maracaibo — The Story 

of Simon Bolivar at the Earthquake at Caracas ..... 102 

CHAPTER X. 

Para and the Monarch of Rivers — The Victoria Regia — The Rubber 

Groves — A Consular Tale . . . . . . . . .110 

CHAPTER XI. 
The Most Beautiful Harbor in All the World — Coffee — Loro . . .125 

CHAPTER XII. 
" What is the matter, Loro ?" — The Deep Sea — Beautiful Buenos Ayres . 134 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Buenos Ayres, the Beautiful ......... 141 

CHAPTER XIV. 
The Wonders of Buenos Ayres — The Recoleta — The Largest Commercial 
Roof in the World — Dr. Dee — The North American Normal School 

— Stories at Dr. Dee's 155 

CHAPTER XV. 
In Buenos Ayres and Montevideo — Arline and Leigh go shopping with 

Remarkable Results . . . . . . . . . .169 

9 



IO CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XVI. PAGE 

Up the Parana, Rosario — The Estancia California — Tales of the Gran 

Chaco . . . . . . . . . . . . .179 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Cattle Doctor of the Gran Chaco 194 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Strange People of the Pampas and the Coast 202 

CHAPTER XIX. 
The Andes ............. 222 

CHAPTER XX. 
Over the Cordillera — The Transandine Railway 227 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Over the Cordillera 240 

CHAPTER XXII. 
A Storm —The Old Arriero — Nervous Mr. Cottle — In the Posada . . 247 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
The Conductor's Story of Mr. Allwrong and the Wild Arriero . . . 253 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
The Mountaineer's Story of the Muleteer of Coquimbo — The Newspaper 

Man's Story of General Pringle and the " Step of Victory "... 260 

CHAPTER XXV. 

An Unexpected Episode — Terror — Morning in the Andes . . . 275 

CHAPTER XXVI. 
Morning in the Andes — To Santiago de Chili — The Story of President 

Balmaceda 2S1 

CHAPTER XXVII. 
The South American Poets — Leigh wishes to study in Santiago — A Remi- 
niscence of a Night in the Andes 291 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
The West Coast — Iquique and Lima — Tarapaca — The High Railroad to 

Titicaca — Cuzco 30S 

CHAPTER XXIX. 
Lima, "The Pearl of the Pacific " — Aunt Blanco, the Golden — She is a 

Kindergartner — Arline remains in Lima 323 

CHAPTER XXX. 
The Land of the Emeralds — The Incas in their Glory — To Panama . . 339 

CHAPTER XXXI. 
Guayaquil — The Story of "the Conqueror who gambled away the Golden 

Sun " — Uncle Henry's Tale of his First Visit to Guayaquil . . . 356 

CHAPTER XXXII. 
Panama — The Harbor of Pearls — The Story of the Astrologer of Darien . 364 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



•> " The head of an Argentine steer . . . came round the curve " . 

Frontispiece 41 

* " The harbor was full of boats, and the air of birds " ... 87 

»••' Pierre knew that this flower would gain the reward " . . .124 

, Hunting the Rhea, or South American Ostrich .... 206 

v - The railway climbs the Andes through rocky walls and roaring 

streams w .......... . 240 



OVER THE ANDES. 



3j*iC 



CHAPTER I. 

CAPTAIN FROBISHER'S STORIES OF THE HEROES OF THE 

ANDES. 

CAPTAIN HENRY FROBISHER was an old merchant 
sea-captain, who had acquired a considerable fortune 
by trading on the east and west coast of South America. 
He was a popular story-teller, and he used often to entertain 
his family and friends by tales of his travels and advent- 
ures. These chiefly related to South American life, and 
were somewhat different from those of most other countries. 
He lived at Milton, Mass. The town was famous in 
Revolutionary times as the place of the Suffolk Resolves, 
which led the way to the Declaration of Independence, and 
the house in which these resolute Resolves were passed still 
stands. It is a beautiful bowery town of fine residences, new 
and old. Here is a famous chocolate factory, one of the pro- 
prietors of which has recently died, leaving a large fortune 
to many charities, and to his friends who had helped him 
make his money. Of this philanthropist, who was then 
Mayor of Boston, Wendell Phillips once said, that if Diog- 

13 



14 OVER THE ANDES. 

enes were to come to the city in search of an honest man, 
he might find him in the mayor's chair, and the same honest 
mayor and congressman — think of that ! — used to say that 
he would rather make a good thing than to get a large 
price for a poor one. When he died, something passed out 
of every heart that he had met. 

Uncle Henry had been engaged in the importation of 
cocoa ; not for the Milton factories, for we imagine these 
manufactories purchased their cocoa beans in many places 
and of many importers. He had also imported vanilla 
many years ago from Peru, but in recent years from the 
Mexican ports. To these articles of merchandise he added 
coffee, dyewoods, the Peruvian bark, and fruits and 
spices. 

There were several old sea-captains living in Milton, and 
these used to call upon Captain Henry at times, and talk 
over their experiences in the almost unknown countries on 
the South American coasts. When one of these merchant 
tradesmen came to see Captain Henry in summer time, as 
it often happened, and the two sat down together on the 
wide veranda under the trees, there were certain boys and 
one girl that were sure to be found within range of hearing. 
The boys were students, and were beginning to consider 
what new opportunities the world and possibly the South 
American world might offer them ; and the old merchant's 
stories thus had a double attraction to them. As for the 
girl, she liked to listen to what interested the bright boys, 
after the manner that girls usually are pleased to read boys' 
books. 

It is a fiery evening in July, — vacation time, — and old 



CAPTAIN FROBISHER S STORIES OF THE ANDES. 1 5 

Captain Long has come over to call on Captain Henry to 
discuss the Venezuela question, and to explain to him what 
complications and even wars might arise should the United 
States continue to pursue towards all of the South Ameri- 
can republics the course that she had adopted in regard to 
Venezuela. 

"I tell you, Captain Frobisher," said Captain Long, "the 
time is coming when the overcrowded populations of Europe 
will be seeking new countries for emigration. They will 
come to understand the value of the empty table-lands of 
South America, and go there, even as now there is a new 
Italy and a new race forming in the Argentine Republic 
under the Andes. Then what complications may arise ! " 

Captain Long had a great cane, and at these ominous 
words he brought it down on the veranda with a great thump. 
At this sound a boy's head appeared. It was not the thump 
of the cane that had brought this boy suddenly to light, but 
the expectation that stories would follow politics. 

"A great English poet," said Captain Long, "has said 
that the greatest development of America will yet take 
place on the table-lands of the Andes. Why not ? It was 
so in the ages before the discovery. The author of ' Social 
Evolution ' says the same thing. Why not ? Everything 
will grow on the table-lands of the Andes ! " 

He gave his cane another tremendous thump, and another 
boy appeared. He, too, was hoping that the political breeze 
on the veranda would soon blow over, and that he might be 
allowed to listen to something more interesting. 

"Why," he added, " Sarmiento used to say that Buenos 
Ayres would become the biggest city in the three Americas. 



1 6 OVER THE ANDES. 

Why not ? She is becoming one of the handsomest 
now ! " 

He gave his cane another thump, and this time a girl 
appeared. 

"Your audience is growing," said Captain Henry. 

" So I see, Captain. It's coming, Captain Frobisher, it 
is coming. Mexico and Japan have been the surprises of 
this last half of the century. The countries of the South 
Temperate Zone will be among the wonders of the next half 
century : the Argentine Republic, Chili, Peru, and the min- 
ing regions under the equator. They are empty lands, but 
they have everything to offer to empty hands. 

" And Captain Henry, when that time does come, those 
countries will owe much of their prosperity and greatness to 
an American boy — " 

" Who, sir ? " asked boy number one. 

" Please to tell us something about that boy," said boy 
number two. 

" Do, Captain Long," said the girl, who added in a lower 
voice to the two boys : " That will lead to a more interesting 
story. I love to sit in the shade and hear sea-captains tell 
stories." The two boys nodded. 

Captain Long, as well as Captain Henry Frobisher, en- 
joyed telling a story. 

" Well," he said, " I cannot refuse the request of my girl 
to tell a story about a boy who is my hero." He did so, 
and not without some picturesque words and real enthu- 
siasm. 



CAPTAIN FROBISHER'S STORIES OF THE ANDES. 1 7 

THE STORY OF A SHIPWRECKED CAPTAIN WHO CHANGED THE 
OCEAN AND THE ANDES. 

In the year 1789 there was born at Newburyport, Mass., a 
remarkable boy, who became justly illustrious in South Amer- 
ica, but whose history is but little known in North America, 
or even in the state that gave him birth. His father was 
descended from an ancient family in Lincolnshire, England. 
He was educated at Andover Academy. This man came to 
-see in his mental eye new ports for South America, new 
systems of navigation, and a railroad over the Andes. He 
neither fought battles, held high offices, nor sought any place 
among the names of ambition ; but he, by a purely disinter- 
ested character, put the world under obligation to him, and 
left a name to rise ever higher as a star in the history of 
human achievement. He stands for South American prog- 
ress ; he became the soul of it. Peace has her heroes ; this 
man waspne of them. (Here the captain made an exclama- 
tion point with a thump of his cane.) 

The foreigner is an all-important factor in the develop- 
ment of South America. The Andes beckon. The heroes- 
of the Andes in history have been Bolivar and San Martin. 
They prepared the way for liberty. The peace-hero of the 
Andes is he whose wonderful story we are about to relate. 
(More punctuation.) 

Men who distinguish themselves in pursuits that benefit 
others give but little thought to their own personal history. 
This was the case of William Wheelwright. He never so 
much as left a scrap history of his personal struggles and 
achievements. 



15 OVER THE ANDES. 

Wheelwright had a nature that loved the sea. 

He early launched out upon it, and became a sea-captain 
before he became of age. His higher education, to a mind 
like his, the highest, came from the merchant ship. 

Trade took him to South America, and he there saw the 
marvellous opportunity of the Republics of the Sun. 

A shipwreck on the South American coast taught him his 
first lesson in industrial improvement, and revealed to him 
his mission. Why was he shipwrecked ? Why were others 
likely to fare the same ? Partly for the want of light-houses, 
harbor works, coast directions. There was a great need of 
a new pilotage, buoys, charts, and improvements on this 
palmy coast, so serene in fair weather, so terrible in foul. 
The great need of South America was harbors. Who was to 
be the hero of harbors in these Republics of the Sun ? 

Wheelwright first arrived in Buenos Ayres, in the presi- 
dency of Rivadavia, a man whose heart was in the enlarge- 
ment of his country. He remained but a short time on the 
river Plata. The rule of Rosas, one of the South American 
tyrants, followed. He went elsewhere. 

The republics which had been made victorious by Bolivar 
and San Martin were now looking towards public improve- 
ments. They must have safe harbors and good roads for 
trade. They must bring to the work minds skilled in such 
enterprises. They found such an one in Wheelwright. He 
began to map out in his mind the highways of the coast and 
the Andean Alps. When he returned to Buenos Ayres, 
Urquiza, the conqueror of the tyrant Rosas, was in power, 
and desired to open the river ports to the commerce of the 
world. 



CAPTAIN FROBISHER S STORIES OF THE ANDES. 1 9 

As his co-operator in this work, which was to change the 
attitude of the whole country to the world, he engaged the 
once shipwrecked Massachusetts sea-captain, William Wheel- 
wright. 

"A translator of a Spanish work on Wheelwright says 
that he " had two births, two lives, two countries," and adds : 
" Wheelwright was the gift which the waves of the Rio de 
la Plata brought to South America. The vessel on which he 
was wrecked went to pieces at Otiz. He adopted the coun- 
try of his shipwreck, not after the manner of the early Span- 
ish adventurers, but to become its benefactor." 

The young Newburyport captain found himself at the port 
of Buenos Ayres in utter destitution. His only provision for 
a new life was his mind and heart. The people of Buenos 
Ayres received the shipwrecked captain with open doors, 
and it paid them well. For he not only created, as it werey- 
the port of Taboga in the Bay of Panama, and that of Cal- 
dara in Chili, but glorious Ensenada, the seaway by which 
ships sail into the pampas to the deep seaport some thirty 
miles from Buenos Ayres. 

After his shipwreck he first went around Cape Horn. 
What was the need of the coast ? Harbors, light-houses, 
charts, ports. He desired to see these things, but what was 
he, a shipwrecked mariner from Newburyport, to make a new 
ocean world ? 

He at last established himself at Guayaquil, the principal 
harbor of the then Republic of Colombia, now of Ecuador. 
Here on account of his fitness for the place, he was appointed 
United States Consul, and in this consulate he found his feet 
firmly planted on the ladder of life. The position brought 



20 OVER THE ANDES. 

him into association with great leaders of liberty in South 
America. 

It was the period of the emancipation from Spanish rule, 
and of the remodelling of the new republics after the manner 
of the government of the United States. He found himself 
a needed man in a needed place. The victories of peace 
awaited him. The Isthmus of Panama then belonged to 
Colombia. This was the road across the continent from sea 
to sea. 

After a residence here, commerce called him to Chili, to 
establish a line of pickets between Valparaiso and Bolivia. 
Here a great vision filled his mind. It was a line of 
steamers between Valparaiso and Panama and Europe. 
Step by step, the ladder ascends. Steam was in its early 
stage of development then. 

Wheelwright desired co-operation in this then great 
scheme. He went to the British Consul. His views were 
received coolly. He seems to have gone to the same place 
again and again. The British Consul regarded his views 
as an impertinence. 

" Servant," he said one day, " if that insane Wheelwright 
calls to see me again, deny him admittance." 

The boys laughed at him in the streets of Lima, Peru, 
when his plans for a coast line of steamers had become 
publicly known. 

But "that insane Wheelwright" was not to be deterred by 
a sneer. He went from capital to capital among commercial 
men urging his plan, and to London, and by influence at last 
prevailed, and he broke up the old lines of navigation ; set 
ocean palaces on the calm Pacific ; and set the clock of the 



CAPTAIN FROBISHER S STORIES OF THE ANDES. 21 

ocean world to begin a new era. The new navigation de- 
manded new harbors and ports ; it made them. 

It is not recorded what the British Consul thought of " that 
insane Wheelwright " now. 

The Comercio of Lima, Peru, describes the arrival of the 
first steamer of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company: — ■ 

"Yesterday," it said, "the city presented a holiday scene. 
Every one who could went to Callao (the port of Lima), 
everything on wheels, even to old-fashioned volantes." The 
name of the steamer was the " Peru." 

"Oh," said the paper, "that some one would begin a rail- 
road between Callao and Lima ! " 

Wheelwright was even then dreaming of such a road. 
Callao and Lima are practically one now. 

Wheelwright had a long battle with the old Spanish 
colonial systems in his efforts to make a new line of travel 
on the Pacific coast. When his plans had triumphed, and he 
had become recognized as a benefactor, a new scheme en- 
tered his mind. It was a railroad over the Andes. Step by 
step. The conservatives of the old cities thought that he 
must surely be insane now. 

The dream of the Transandine railroad brought him back 
to the La Plata, where he was cast up by the sea. A man is 
a debtor to his profession, and he should live in a place that 
best inspires his work. This place for Wheelwright now was 
the growing capital of the Argentina. He had united the 
republics of the south with Europe, he now desired to unite 
the two oceans by rail, from Buenos Ayres to Valparaiso, and 
to make these ports fitted for such a wedding. 

His scheme was derided and opposed by the conservatives 



22 OVER THE ANDES. 

of both Argentina and Chili. He was to many " that insane 
Wheelwright " again. He well knew now that opposition is 
the price of success. He would bow the Andes as he had 
bound the sea. If Nature resisted him, he " would compel 
her to obey." 

He began on connecting links of this great scheme which 
came to him as it were on the mount of vision. Step by 
step. He inaugurated the works of the Grand Central 
Argentine at Rosario in 1863, amid flags, banners, music, 
triumphal arches, and parades. General Mitre himself threw 
up the first shovelful of earth. The road thus beginning 
was to people solitudes and become a new highway for 
mankind. 

" The inauguration of the Grand Central Argentine Rail- 
way," said Wheelwright, " is the commencement of a new 
epoch ; the establishment of a glorious movement dedicated 
to industry, to agricultural and pastoral pursuits. Its office 
is the regeneration of the provinces." 

He added, and what a soul of vision and of magnanimity 
is in the words ! — 

"It is not a matter of surprise, gentlemen, that a project 
so stupendous (he refers to the Transandine) should not be 
looked upon with confidence by many; it is purely a question 
of time, however ; it will be realized. It will unite the great 
American family of nations. The enterprise has passed 
through many changes, but its success is certain." 

Wheelwright's next movement in the chain of this stupen- 
dous highway which was to march through the heavens, was 
a railway from the deep seaport of Ensenada to Buenos 
Ayres, a distance of some thirty miles. The space was 



CAPTAIN FROBISHER S STORIES OF THE ANDES. 23 

short, but the importance of it was great. It was the Atlan- 
tic end of the sky-piercing way. 

The Ensenada railway was inaugurated on the 31st of 
December, 1872. There was another festival. Wheelwright 
himself broke the sod for the enterprise on Washington's 
birthday, 1863. 

His health failed the next year after the inauguration of 
this part of the system. He never would see the Trans- 
andine railway, but he was certain of its triumph. His 
physician ordered him away from the Plata. He went to 
England, where he died on September 26, 1873. 

" Bury me in Newburyport," he said. Afterwards George 
Peabody said in the same spirit, dying abroad, " Danvers, 
Danvers, remember Danvers ! " 

The two great Americans sleep near each other among the 
elms of the bowery old ports by the sea. The grave of 
Wheelwright is in Newburyport, but his monuments are in 
South America, at Buenos Ayres and Valparaiso. The 
latter city has a square in his honor. 

Wheelwright is an ideal character. His fame will grow 
with his works, and his career is one that a young man may 
well take to his heart, and from which any one shipwrecked 
by misfortune may find hope. 

The statues to Wheelwright in South America are among 
the first to honor the heroes of peace. There, boys, is an 
example for you. 



CHAPTER II. 

UNCLE HENRY FROBISHER, "OUR BOYS," AND ARLINE. 

HPHE boy that the thump of Captain Long's cane first 
I brought to the light of introduction was Alonzo Fro- 
bisher, a nephew of Captain Frobisher. The boy called 
up by a second thump of the cane was Leigh Frobisher, 
Alonzo's younger brother. The girl who appeared after the 
Arabian manner was Arline Frobisher, a niece of Captain 
Henry, and a cousin to the two boys. 

Alonzo was a very practical lad ; to him the world was 
made for business. Leigh was as poetical as Alonzo was 
practical ; he had the original dream and vision of things, 
and it mattered little to him who did the work of the world. 
Uncle Henry used to say that the one was all head and the 
other all heart. 

Arline ? — She was a student of a kindergarten training 
school in Boston. She loved children, books, birds, and 
flowers. She found in Leigh much sympathy, and always 
took his part when he was criticised by Alonzo. 

" Uncle," said Alonzo, when Captain Long's cane had 
ceased to echo on the long wooden pavement, "South Amer- 
ica interests me. It may be the country of the future. I 
like to hear your stories of that part of the world — the 
' Austral world,' Captain Long calls it, and others, the equa- 

24 



UNCLE HENRY FROBISHER, "OUR BOYS," AND ARLINE. 2$ 

torial world. I would rather see the Amazon than the 
Rhine ; the cattle kingdom of Argentina than the battle 
fields of Belgium, and Aconcagua than Mont Blanc. I 
would rather return with you to South America than to visit 
Europe. I wish that you would take me with you to your 
old vanilla farm in Peru." 

" I am glad, my boy, if the stories that I have been telling 
you have awakened your curiosity — I can see now how they 
have struck your fancy. The Amazon is a nobler river 
than the Rhine, and you might crown Mont Blanc with Mt. 
Washington and it would not be Aconcagua, whose heights not 
even the wing of the condor reaches in the frozen air. 

" If you were to return with me to Peru, you would go 
by the way of Europe. My business would take me first to 
London, and the way to South America from Southampton, 
or from Liverpool to Buenos Ayres and over the Andes by 
rail and mule to Valparaiso and thence to Callao and Lima, 
is the most delightful route of travel in all the world. A 
journey 'from the North Temperate Zone to the South Tem- 
perate Zone by the way of Southampton is an historic and 
commercial education, and it costs no more to make it than to 
visit Italy and the East in the usual way." 

Captain Henry noticed that Arline was greatly interested 
in what he was saying. She presently asked hesitatingly, — 

" Uncle Henry, why not let me go, too ? " 

" Go where, girl ? " 

" To Peru — over the Andes." 

"Why, girl, what put that idea into your mind ? " 

" Aunt Blanco lives near Lima. She is my Golden Aunt. 
She lives in the suburbs of the City of the Kings." 



26 OVER THE ANDES. 

"A queer place indeed for you, Arline, would be the 
same City of the Kings. What attracts you in that direc- 
tion ? " 

"I would like to help Aunt Blanco, Dona Blanco, in her 
kindergarten schools." 

Uncle Henry lifted his hands. 

The captain was a large-hearted man, and he used to say 
in the words on a Boston monument, " My country is the 
world, and my countrymen are all mankind." His own sons 
were dead, and he had a lively affection for his two nephews, 
Alonzo and Leigh. The two boys had just graduated from 
a Latin school, and it was their uncle's wish that they should 
go to Geneva, Switzerland, and enter the famous commercial 
school in that city that, in a three years' course, prepares 
young men for mercantile life. It was his theory that a 
young man should learn the languages and commercial laws 
of the ports of the world. 

Captain Henry's home befitted a prosperous trader. It 
had ample grounds, and in these grounds was an orchid- 
house, which contained many rare orchids, and some curious 
South American animals and birds. It had been started 
with a few specimens of the vanilla vine, some night-bloom- 
ing cereuses, and parasitic plants from the table-lands of the 
Andes. Two Brazilian "blue front" parrots had been added; 
some marmosets and an ant-eater ; and at last a condor, whose 
wings, that were of immense strength, had once scaled the 
Lower Andes in the atmospheres of the sun. 

The wonder of the collection grew. On each return from 
South America, Captain Frobisher brought to his home-gar- 
den orchid-house something new. He liked boys and girls ; 



UNCLE HENRY FROBISHER, "OUR BOYS," AND ARLINE. 27 

he offered them a free range of his " raree-show," and so his 
home-coming became a holiday. 

His two nephews, Alonzo and Leigh Frobisher, spent 
much time with him in his home among the Milton Hills, 
once called the Northmen Hills, and later the " Blue Hills," 
overlooking the sea. The two boys were now at the turning- 
point of life — they were asking the question, " What pur- 
suit shall we follow ? " 

" Everything in life depends upon starting right," Captain 
Henry used to say strongly. " There is a time in life when 
one step is all the way : turn to the right, advance, and keep 
straight ahead. Prepare to take that first step rightly, and 
never retrace the way." 

Uncle Henry's parlor tables were covered with South 
American pictures. He went into the room, and returned 
with a photograph. 

" Arline," he said, " if you are going to help your Golden 
Aunt in Peru keep school, and expect to go there over the 
Andes, you may like to see some of the people that you 
would be likely to meet on the way. Perhaps you would 
like to see the prettiest shoe shop that I ever saw in all my 
travels. Here she is." 

He handed Arline a picture of a barefooted native girl 
with a basket of shoes on her head. 

Alonzo saw his brother Leigh coming out of the orchid- 
house, and called — 

" Leigh, come here ; uncle has something new to show you." 

Leigh Frobisher joined his uncle and his brother, bringing 
with him some of his schoolmates who had come to see the 
marmosets in the orchid-house. 



28 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Leigh," said Alonzo, "what would you say if you were 
to meet a shoe shop like that ? " 

" I would say, 'Buenos dias, Senorita? " said Leigh, who, 
understood a little Spanish. The schoolboys made them- 
selves merry as they saw the picture of the industrious little 
Argentine girl, and one of them said, " I would say, ' Sefio- 
rita, let me make you a present of a pair of shoes.' " 

" She would have no need of them on the hot, dusty, un- 
fenced roads over the pampas," said Uncle Henry. " Why, 
they have dirt storms there that they call pamperos, that bury 
one alive while he is running away. In the republic of the 
purple seas and skies it is a luxury to go barefooted. Now, 
perhaps, you would like to see a baker's shop on the pampas." 

" Yes, yes," cried all, and even Arline, who was not at all 
discouraged by the first view of an Argentine sister. 

"Well, my young friends, how would that do? She?" 

" She is not quite as attractive as the shoe shop," said 
Leigh, after he had carefully examined the picture of the 
barefooted baker's shop. " But they both have steady heads, 
and both evidently have true, honest hearts." 

" Have you any more walking, talking pampas stores, 
Uncle Henry ? " asked Arline. 

" Yes, here is a poultry dealer. You like to study faces. 
What are your impressions of him ? " replied Uncle Henry ; 
and this time he produced the picture of a man carrying a 
good supply of live poultry about his person. 

The boys liked the faces of all. So did Arline. She 
seemed charmed by these views of rustic simplicity. 

"The face is one's sign," said Uncle Henry, "and you 
seem to think that these signs are all right. Well, there is 



UNCLE HENRY FROBISHER, " OUR BOYS," AND ARLINE. 29 

much good, true, pure blood, as well as some bad traits of 
character, in the Argentine race." 

Uncle Henry liked to have young people gather around 
him in the long summer twilights on the Milton Hills. He 
liked to tell them tales of the Gran Chaco, — that floral wil- 
derness of beasts, birds, and reptiles lying along the rivers 
Parana and the Paraguay ; tales of the india-rubber groves, 
of the Amazon, and of the regions around Titicaca where 
were the ruins of the temples of the sun. 

The boys looked at the pictures, among which were some 
Gaucho minstrels, or wandering musicians of the pampas, 
who improvised complimentary airs. 

Amid the questions that were asked in regard to the 
pictures, Leigh, whose imagination was always active, 
asked — 

"What, Uncle, was the greatest fright that you ever re- 
ceived in your journeys in South America? " 

" It was a somewhat foolish one," said Captain Frobisher. 
"It was caused by a spider. I have told the story many times, 
and once after telling it, a friend on shipboard showed me a 
picture in Howard's 'Cuba with Pen and Pencil,' that almost 
exactly reproduced my experience, but that did not make my 
case any less real and true." 

" It was at La Guayra, the port of Caracas. I had landed 
there from one of the steamers of the Red D Line from 
New York. A crowd of people met me at the tender, who 
seemed to have known me all my life, who called me by 
endearing names in piratical voices, as if desirous to render 
me every possible assistance. A large part of the working 
people of the port seemed to have turned out to assist me in 



30 OVER THE ANDES. 

carrying my simple baggage to the Custom House, and my- 
self to the hotel. 

" I went to see the consul first. His name, as I remember, 
was Hanna, and I think that he had once been a Methodist 
minister in Iowa. Like all consuls, he was very friendly and 
accommodating. He invited me to visit his room, which 
overlooked a narrow street, and from the window of which 
depended an American flag. I was then driven to my hotel, 
a long old Spanish structure, rambling, zigzagging, near a 
great stable, and having dining-rooms open to the sky, gay 
with vines, flowers, and birds. 

" I had been told to drink cocoanut milk so as to escape 
the fever. 

" ' The healthy wells are in the trees,' said a fellow-passen- 
ger. He was right. 

" A boy brought to my room green cocoanuts almost as 
large as buckets. He struck off the tops of one or more 
with his machete, or cutlass, and filled a glass with the most 
delicious drink that ever cooled my lips. The strand near the 
breakwater was shaded by cocoanut groves, whose immense 
tops were loaded with fruit. 

" I was tired, and I went early to my room. It was mid- 
winter, but the heat was intense. Above the port gleamed 
the Andes, green with cacti. A little way up the mountain 
side was the ancient castle, associated, I believe, with the 
story of the Rose of Devon, or some character in ' West- 
ward Ho.' The lights were beginning to come out in the 
huts on the mountain ; the stars, too, were appearing in 
the clear, liquid-like air, and it became hard to tell where the 
cabin lights ended and the stars began their night march. 



UNCLE HENRY FROBISHER, "OUR BOYS, AND ARLINE. 3 1 

" My room ? I cannot so well picture it to you. It was 
like a guard-room in a fortress. It had immense doors and 
iron grates for windows. In each corner transwise was a cot- 
bed in an iron frame. 

" I sat down. I soon became very thirsty, and went out 
and called on a negro boy to bring me more cocoanut water. 
I do not recall that ever anything was more refreshing 
to me. 

" I partly undressed, and prepared to wash before lying 
down on one of the two cot-beds in the high, long room. I 
had only a candle for a light. It stood on a cheap stand near 
to two barred, fortress-like doors. 

" I poured out some water into a bowl, rolled up my 
sleeves, and was about to dip down my head, when such an 
object met my eyes as caused me to leap back as though I 
had received an electric shock. I bounded into the air back- 
wards. I am sure that never before or since had I or have 
I performed a feat like that. I was electrified. 

" I was about to scream out, ' A tarantula ! a tarantula ! ' 
But what good, I thought, would that do ? I spoke Spanish 
so imperfectly then that the people might think that I was 
calling for a tarantula. 

"He stood there on that great door just above the wash- 
basin. His legs were like feathers, and his body was as big 
as a small bird's. What was I to do ? 

" I walked off at a long distance and looked on the create 
ure — such an one as hardly could have haunted the imagi- 
nation of the author of 'Trilby' — -with distended eyes. 

" A New Englander, as a rule, does not lack invention. 
I formed a plan. I would put one of my boots over my 



32 OVER THE ANDES. 

hand and arm, and go boldly up to him and kill him. But 
might there not be other tarantulas in the same room ? 
The air was hot, stifling, and dusty. What a night was 
before me ! 

" I put my right boot over my right hand and arm and 
went forward and struck at him. He leaped aside, dropped 
to the floor, and ran like a little mouse towards the cot on the 
opposite side of the room, and disappeared under it. 

" My situation was now as alarming as before. The spider 
could make long leaps and knew how to protect his own life. 
I had no desire to investigate the whereabouts of his hiding- 
place. He could have leaped upon me when he struck the 
floor, which he did with a dull tJiump. I was glad that I had 
so far escaped. I resolved now to sit up all night. The 
thought made me light-hearted for a moment. 

"But I turned to the stand. There was only one candle 
there, and that was burning clown fast. I surely could not 
sit up all the night in the darkness with a tarantula in the 
room. 

" I now determined to go to bed with my boots and clothes 
on, and to cover my face with my rubber coat. This I did, 
and passed the early part of the night in suffocation and 
horror, thinking of old New England and of home and 
friends far away. 

" But while thus watching over myself, firmly resolving not 
to go to sleep, I did go to sleep. Oblivion ! 

" When I awoke, the sky was blazing, birds were singing, 
and the room was filled with the odors of flowers. My rub- 
ber coat was on the floor. I arose and looked about the 
room. No tarantula was to be seen. 



UNCLE HENRY FROBISHER, "OUR BOYS," AND ARLINE. 33 

" I had a superb breakfast : what coffee ! what meats and 
vegetables ! what fruits ! 

"After the meal, I started at once for the consulate to tell 
my tale of horror to Consul Hanna. I described the awful 
spider and my providential escape. He did not look at all 
alarmed, or even sympathetic ; he merely asked - 

" ' Did he have feathers on his legs ? ' 

" ' Feathers ; yes, he did ! ' 

" ' Then he was all right. He never would have harmed 
you, unless you disturbed him. The scorpions here are far 
more dangerous than the spiders.' 

" I looked at the tall man reproachfully. He did not seem 
disposed to send for a gunboat to protect the American flag 
against such intrusions as these, or to offer me any indem- 
nity. He merely said with a consular air, ' You'll be putting 
that into a book some day.' 

" It was the last night that I spent in La Guayra. Consul 
Hanna generously helped me to make my journey to Caracas 
as speedily as possible ; and when I told the story in the 
French hotel, in the city of that enchanting valley, my host 
only said, ' But, Sehor, that was nothing — sahid, Senor ! ' 
(health, sir). 

" Arline," asked Uncle Henry, lifting his eyebrows and 
taking on a Bluebeard expression, " how would you like to 
go to such a country as that f " 

" I think that I would like to go very well, Uncle," said 
Arline, undeterred. 

" But why, when you have a lovely home on Milton 
Hills ? " 

" I would like to be doing something, Uncle," said Arline. 



34 OVER THE ANDES. 

" You sometimes go to South America by the way of La 
Guayra," said Arline. " I would like to go that way and see 
Caracas. I have been reading 'Westward Ho.'" 

" One spider, I see, does not terrify you," said Uncle 
Henry, with a cheerful laugh. 



CHAPTER III. 

CAPTAIN HENRY'S STORY OF "THE BELL-MULE OF THE 
ANDES." 

CAPTAIN HENRY FROBISHER'S mind was in the 
South. " New England for homes and for youth and 
old age," he used to say; "but the ports of the world for 
trade." He had traded much on his own ships, and had 
travelled as the agent of a line of ships of which he was 
in part owner. 

There was one story that he used to tell that most young 
people liked to hear, and it somehow had fixed the imagina- 
tion of his nephews and Arline upon the Andes and filled 
them with a desire to make a Transandine journey with him. 
It was n»t an inviting story, but it turned these young peo- 
ple's thoughts to scenes that were new. It related to a 
traveller's adventure in the Andes, and as it interested our 
young people, we hope that it may interest our readers for 
the journey that they are to make with this pleasant family. 

THE BELL-MULE OF THE ANDES. 

It was at Mendoza. 

" The passes are all open and the way plain. I am going 
to give you an old bell-mule — madrina — for the journey. 



35 



36 OVER THE ANDES. 

She is sure-footed, — never stumbles, and she knows all the 
roads over the Cordillera, from Mendoza to Valparaiso. She 
has led the pack-mules over the Andes an hundred times." 
So said a travelling agent. 

" But, Seiior, is there no danger of accident or robbery ? " 
asked I. 

" ' Accident ' ? no, my good friend ; a bell-mule seldom 
meets with accidents. If you should find any part of the way 
difficult, drop your rein, and trust the mule. That mule does 
not need an arriero ; you have little idea how intelligent 
these animals are. When different packs of mules are given 
their liberty at a puesto for the night, each pack knows its 
own madrina or bell-mule by the sound of the bell, and can 
be brought together by that sound at any time, and separated 
from the rest. I myself could not distinguish one bell from 
another, but the mules can. ' Robbers ' ? no, the long way 
over the Cordillera is safe ; there are no robbers there. The 
mail-carrier goes on foot over the passes alone in winter and 
summer ; you will find his shelters along the way, and he 
is never molested." 

" Are there no wild beasts that might attack a lonely 
traveller ? " 

"No, that thing is not likely to happen, — we do not hear 
of such attacks ; the passes are in constant use in the sum- 
mer, but, Senor, hear me, —whatever may alarm you, trust 
your mule, trust your mule ; she knows ; in these matters of 
travel she is a philosopher with spectacles on ; she does not 
make a guide-post of any estray ; how she knows I don't 
know, but I know that she knows, and if I were to put my 
boy upon her and say 'Para altura ! ' she would carry him 



CAPTAIN HENRY S STORY OF THE BELL-MULE. 37 

over the heights to Valparaiso. She would not make a mis- 
step in all the way. You may shut your eyes, — that will not 
matter, — but see that your girth straps are secure, then hold 
on to the pommel of your saddle, and trust your mule. You 
will find some steep places, and some narrow ways over 
which it will turn your head to look down ; but trust your 
mule. Senor, think of what I now tell you then ; trust your 
mule, and you will get there. Senor, adios ! " 

It was the Andean summer — ■ our winter ; and I was start- 
ing on a journey over the Cordillera of the Andes for Los 
Andes and Valparaiso. My friend had given me an old, 
white bell-mule for the journey, a patient, discouraged-look- 
ing animal, poor in flesh, with a head almost as large as a 
travelling-trunk, in which it was claimed was stored a great 
amount of occult and useful knowledge. She did not look 
around pleasantly at me — she seemed to regard me as 
an enemy, and it was not with a feeling of perfect confidence 
that I mownted her back, and looked up to the stupendous 
mountains gleaming over the foot-hills. The Cordillera was 
thirteen thousand feet high, — more than twice as high as Mt. 
Washington, — and over it shone stately Tupungato, in the 
solitary grandeur of eternal winter, sheeted with spotless 
snow. Beyond Tupungato, but unseen at my starting-point, 
towered Aconcagua twenty-three thousand feet high. 

The day was glorious, as are all summer days in the Andes. 
The way for a long distance followed the Mendoza River, 
which here and there fell in cascades, and which everywhere, 
even among the rocks, was bordered with flowers. Giant 
cacti were there ; orchids, like gardens in the air. 

The way was plain ; the atmosphere exhilarating, and as 



38 OVER THE ANDES. 

the foot-hills sank behind, mountains rose over mountains, 
and I found myself among the ruins of the volcanic age of 
the meridional world. 

I came near sunset to Ziptiesto, or posada, which was a long, 
low-walled house, and, aching in every bone, tumbled off my 
trusty mule, and asked for a cot. 

The room that was given me was full of cot-beds that 
were used by parties of travellers between Mendoza and 
Santiago or Valparaiso. There was but one lodger here now, 
beside myself, and I was for some hours too full of aches to 
engage in conversation with him. 

I had my coffee brought to my bed, and soon after taking it, 
I was dreaming, and my dreams followed a new imagination. 
I thought that a hundred volcanoes were blazing around me, 
as they once did blaze in these sublime regions when there 
was no eye to see them. 

I woke late. My room-mate was sitting on the edge of his 
cot. He was an Englishman, and had evidently been wait- 
ing for me to awake. 

" It is a fine morning," he said. " Be you going over the 
mountains ? " 

"Yes, my good friend," said I. "When I laid clown here 
last evening, I felt as though I would never leave this place 
again ; but that feeling is all gone now. Yes, yes, I am going 
over the Cordillera. Are you bound for the coast? " 

" No, I am engaged in the surveys for the Transandine 
railway, and am living here for the present. Let us go out, 
and take the air. The top of the heavens is out and shining, 
though it will be a long time yet before we will see the sun." 

We went out of the mountain house. The air was crisp ; 



CAPTAIN HENRY S STORY OF THE BELL-MULE. 39 

the sky was clear and filled with sunlight ; the ground was 
dusted with a light snow. 

" Do you have snowstorms in summer here ? " I asked. 

" No, no, this snow is the dust of the mountains. It drifted 
down in the night wind." 

He looked up to the mountain wall, and lifted his hands. 

" Is that your mule up there ? " he asked. 

My mule was grubbing on the declivity, like a huge fly on 
an inclined ceiling ; she ambled along from one tuft of grass 
to another, and we stood and looked at her. The surveyor 
made a kind of observation tube of his two hands, and then 
said, — 

" Where did you find that old, white bell-mule ? I have 
seen her before. If it be the mule that I think she is, she 
has a history. Who let you have her ? " 

" Gormez, the agent of the Transandine route. I am to 
leave her at the Agency at Los Andes on the other side. 
Do you know Gormez ? " 

" Yes, I have met him. He probably gave you that mule 
because he thought that you lacked experience, and that she 
would make up for it. Did Gormez ever tell you anything 
particular about her, or about one of his bell-mules ? " 

" He said that the mules were all sure-footed, and that this 
one would be safe." 

" Safe ? That mule could lead an army to the top of the 
Cordillera and down the other side ! Some years ago one of 
Gormez's mules — and I think that may be the one — did one of 
the most curious things that I ever knew an animal to do. I 
must tell you about it — it will make you feel more safe for the 
long journey you have to go. You will have some rugged 



40 OVER THE ANDES. 

places to climb ; but the going up is hardly a circumstance — 
it is the coming down that makes a man shut his eves and 
wonder if it be all right with his soul ! " 

We entered the caravansary. We were obliged to wait for 
our coffee and eggs, and my English friend leaned back in 
his chair and said, — 

" So Gormez gave you that old white mule. Do animals 
reason ? I used to be taught that the most intelligent ani- 
mals are only guided by instinct, and that a mule's head was 
but little better than a chopping-block. Just take a look at 
that half-fed creature, nibbling away up there, while I tell 
you how she saved the life of Gormez himself. 

" It was this wise : Before the Transandine surveys, things 
were more dangerous on the mountain paths than they are 
now. Gormez used to pass over the Cordillera quite often at 
that time on that white bell-mule. There is a long, narrow, 
zigzag shelf of rock that overlooks an awful chasm, around 
which a single animal can go, if the wind be not high and the 
sky clear. It requires a steady head and a great faith in a 
mule for a man to go that way, but it is the shorter journey. 
If you will give the mule the reins and her own will it may 
be that she will take you that way. Just look at that white 
creature now, climbing the side of the mountain where it is 
almost as steep as the side of a house ! Wonderful, isn't 
it? 

" One clear fine day, Gormez set out from the puesto here, 
to go over the Cordillera, and he took the narrow path along 
the shelf of rock. The mule went steadily on until they 
came to a projecting point of the way, over which, if you look, 
the world itself seems below ; you hang there over the moun- 



CAPTAIN HENRYS STORY OF THE BELL-MULE. 4 1 

tain tops, as it were in the sky. The condor himself rarely 
goes up there, and there the ice seldom melts in the middle of 
summer time. When the wind is high, nothing there could live. 

" On that shelf the little mule stopped. What was the 
reason ? She had never stopped there before, but always 
trotted on, like one half afraid, as fast as her legs would 
carry her. Gormez gathered up the rein, and struck her 
with the loose end of it, but she threw up her head, with a 
no in the motion, and began to tremble. 

" Gormez looked ahead towards the projecting point of the 
rock. Suddenly he saw something that made his heart stand 
still : there came into the clear light there a shadow, and he 
heard the sound of feet and the rattling of stones. 

" He could not draw the mule backward, or turn her 
around. Only one animal could pass there, and were he 
to meet an antagonistic animal there, that animal or the mule 
must go over the shelf. 

" He glanced downward. The condors were wheeling 
above the foot-hills and pinnacles of the rocky ranges below. 
He felt the mule's body quiver ; she knew evidently what 
was coming — he did not. She snuffed it in the air; he had 
no such keen scent. He had but a moment to wait, to see 
what was his peril. The head of an Argentine steer with 
wide horns from the pampas came round the curve, and as 
the animal saw what was before him, he bellowed and his 
eyes blazed. 

" Gormez felt that his last moment had come. The steer 
would clear the way by lifting the mule on his long, widely 
branching horns. His grave would be on the rocks below, 
and the condors would feast upon him. This was his view. 



42 OVER THE ANDES. 

" But another thought had the little white mule. She was 
not going to be tossed over the cliff, without a plucky resist- 
ance. She turned around and lifted her little heels in the 
air. The steer stopped. A little way ahead, there was a 
little hollow in the wall. She crowded herself into it, with 
her heels turned towards the steer, and began to squeal and 
to kick. 

" The steer roared and bent down his head, but the mule 
kicked so vigorously, that one blow from her on his horns 
caused him to throw up his head again and snuff the air. 

" What was the steer to do ? He could not well back 
around the curve. He could not pass by the mule. There 
was one way of safe escape — he could leap over the mule. 
He seemed to see the situation at a glance. He made the 
attempt. The mule saw it. In the leap he might kill the 
rider. Did the mule see this ? I do not know, but she sank 
down on her knees with Gormez on her back, and lay on 
her side on the rocky earth kicking and squealing. 

" The steer saw the way clear ; with one snort and a wild 
frantic movement he made the leap over the mule's back and 
rushed forward, leaving Gormez and his little wise animal 
safely behind. Gormez was not struck by the feet of the 
steer. 

"The little animal rose up. Its trembling ceased. Gormez 
clung to the pommel of his saddle. He said that the perspi- 
ration at that moment poured over him like water. 

" The mule gave a shake, and then put her little legs in 
careful motion until she had passed the curve, when she with 
joyful gait scampered down the declivity." 



CHAPTER IV. 

"OUR BOYS" — WHY THEY WISHED TO VISIT SOUTH AMERICA 
— ARLINE CAUSES A SURPRISE — SHE WISHES TO GO TO 
THE NITRATE DESERT OF TARAPACA WHY ? 

CAPTAIN HENRY FROBISHER was accustomed to 
call his two nephews, Alonzo and Leigh Frobisher, 
" Our Boys," and his niece, Arline Frobisher, " My Girl," and 
so we will speak of them often in that way in this volume, as 
we are to be travelling companions with them. These young 
people used to address the captain as "Uncle Henry," and 
we will often have occasion to speak of him in this way, as 
he pilots us over the Andes. 

"What do you most wish to see in South America?" one 
day asked Uncle Henry of his nephews. 

South America had become a kind of wonderland in the 
imaginations of Alonzo and Leigh Frobisher. Both had long 
cherished the desire to travel there, and the desire grew. 
Their Uncle Henry had for many years sought to enlarge 
his valuable trade in importing dyewoods, barks, and vanilla 
from certain parts of the coast, and had been largely success- 
ful, though he met with some disappointments and failures. 
He had found that the Mexican vanilla was more valuable 
than the Peruvian, and had, as a result, changed this trade to 
Tampico. 

His early expectation of acquiring a fortune by importing 

43 



44 OVER THE ANDES. 

the fragrant bean from Peru had led him to become a special- 
ist in dealing with other roots and barks, — valuable to chemist 
and apothecary, — and out of this experience he became an 
orchid collector, and a lover of these wonderful parasites 
whose gardens are the trees. He was a good Spanish scholar; 
he loved Spanish poetry, and was well versed in Spanish- 
American history. 

He talked of this life and its associations continually. He 
liked to relate to his neighbors tales of times when the Incas 
reigned in their glory at Cuzco and Quito, and the great 
roads ran over the plateaus of the populous empires of the 
Children of the Sun. He sometimes entertained them with 
stories of the conquistadores, as the Spanish invaders were 
called. The romances of the times of liberation of Bolivar, 
San Martin, and Pringle fired his own fancy, and won the 
admiration of the boys. 

"South America," he used to say, "is destined to become 
one of the greatest empires of the world. The highest 
arts of the future are likely to arise on the table-lands of 
the Andes. The South Temperate Zone and the equatorial 
plateaus of this country have every source for developing a 
noble race. A new Italy is already forming under the Andes." 

He liked to repeat these thoughts over and over in the 
presence of the boys, who gladly gave him their ears. They 
heard him so much and so often on the subject that South 
America seemed to become mapped on their minds. So 
when Uncle Henry asked them the question, " What would 
you most wish to see in South America ? " they were well 
prepared to make ready and intelligent answers. 

"I have heard of few things in South America," said 



WHY "OUR BOYS WISHED TO VISIT SOUTH AMERICA. 45 

Alonzo, " that I would not like to see. Among the curious 
things, I would like to see a boa constrictor in the trees, at 
a distance, or to meet the wild Indians of the India-rubber 
groves of the Amazons, or the Indians of the Gran Chaco, 
and the whole menagerie of animals and birds to be found 
in the wilderness of the countries on the Parana." 

He took out his note-book, and wrote for some minutes 
in silence. He then said, — 

" Uncle, would you like to hear me read a list of some 
things that I would most like to see in South America?" 

"Yes, my boy, give me your fancies. Dreams with a 
purpose in them become realities some times. It may be 
that you will some day see them all." 

Alonzo read : — 
" 1. A Chocolate Plantation. 

2. A Coffee Plantation. 

3. The Vanilla Orchid. 

4. The India-rubber Trees of the Amazons. 

5. The Gran Chaco. 

6. The Nitrate Desert of Tarapaca. 

7. The Mines of Peru." 

"These are very practical subjects about which to learn 
as many facts as possible," said Uncle Henry. " You have 
selected them with a business eye, as I can see." 

" Uncle ! " 

It was Arline who spoke. 

"Well, My Girl?" 

" I want to go to the Desert of Tarapaca." 

Uncle Henry sat dumb for a few minutes. He then 
threw up both hands. 



46 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Hoot, you do, My Girl. What could ever have put 
such an idea as that into your young head ? Of all places 
on this planet, why should a Boston girl want to go to the 
Desert of Tarapacd ? " 

" But I do wish to go, Uncle. I cannot tell you now why 
I wish to go. Alonzo would laugh at me — he is laughing 
now. It is a business mind's laugh, and I will forgive him 
after the Froebel teaching. He has never been to a 
kindergarten school." 

The three looked at each other with blank faces. 

" I know why Arline desires to go," said Leigh. " ' In 
the desert let me labor,' " he added, quoting a line from 
the venerable Dr. Smith, who was then living, and whom the 
family knew. 

"But, Leigh," said Arline, "that is not for now. Do 
not speak of it now." 

Arline turned away to hide her tears. Uncle Henry and 
Alonzo were more surprised than before. 

"What is it, Arline?" said Uncle Henry. 

Arline shook away her tears, and said : " I will tell you 
another day, Uncle, why I wish to go to South America. 
I want you to tell me, Uncle, what is the nitrate of soda ? " 

Uncle Henry threw up his hands again. 

" The nitrate of soda, My Girl ? It is plant food. You 
don't wish to go for that. There is nitrogen enough in the 
soil of Milton." 

Alonzo, who had an eye to business opportunities, re- 
inforced Arline's request. 

" I do not know what ideas Arline has in her head, or 
where they came from," he said; "I have never been to a 






WHY "OUR BOYS WISHED TO VISIT SOUTH AMERICA. 47 

kindergarten school, as she says ; but I would like to know 
more about the trade in the nitrate of soda." 

"Whither are we drifting?" asked Uncle Henry. "The 
nitrate of soda," added he, thinking, "and the Desert of 
Tarapaca? Well, well, that is a curious subject for us to 
be interested in here among the old Milton Hills. Colonel 
North made a tremendous fortune, if I may use that word, 
out of the Desert of Tarapaca. He was a poor man when 
he saw his opportunity there, and he lived to move in the 
English royal circles, in the ' Prince of Wales' set,' as we 
say. He was once reputed to be worth one hundred million 
dollars. But that was an exaggeration." 

Alonzo became intensely interested. 

Arline, too, exhibited a like interest; but Leigh seemed 
indifferent. 

"Nitrogen, as I said," continued Uncle Henry, "is the 
food of plants. No plant can grow if its roots are deprived 
of nitrogenous food. 

"The application of nitrogen to the soil is found to in- 
crease the quantity of crops. 

" The so-called Desert of Tarapaca contains vast quan- 
tities of nitrate of soda, by which nitrogen can be artificially 
applied to the soil of worn-out lands. The nitrate there is 
supposed to owe its origin to immense collections of sea- 
weeds, such as float over the Saragossa Sea. These sea- 
weeds settled in lagoons, and were separated from the ocean 
by some volcanic upheaval. The water evaporated, and the 
sea-weed united with the lime of the sea-shells, and produced 
the vast plains of the salts now so valuable. The worn-out 
lands of Europe can be fertilized by these salts. Colonel 



48 OVER THE ANDES. 

North saw this, and for some people to see a thing is to 
become rich. It was so with him. His history could be 
added to the Arabian Nights tales that saved the head of 
Queen Scheherazade." 

" How many people are employed on the Desert of Tara- 
paca ? " asked Arline. 

"There were some thirteen thousand so employed," said 
Uncle Henry. 

"Have they schools there?" she asked earnestly. 

" Schools ? schools ? Why your Uncle Henry never 
thought of such a thing — more's the pity! My Girl is not 
dreaming of going to the Desert of Tarapaca to teach 
school ? " 

" Uncle Henry, don't; I have my ideas — no, they are not 
mine ; but I will tell you more after I have talked with 
mother. She is a friend of Dr. Smith, and she is willing that 
I should go." 

What did the girl mean ? 

"Well," said Uncle Henry, "wonders will never cease. 
Leigh, what would you most wish to see in South Amer- 
ica ? " 

" Well, Uncle, listen : — 

" i st. Caracas, where South American liberty was born." 

" What would you most like to visit in Caracas ? Calvaro, 
the park lifting its flower garden to the sky ? " 

"No, I would most like to see the old church that stood 
when Caracas went down in the earthquake, and in which 
Bolivar exclaimed when he thought that the earthquake would 
hinder the cause of the Independence, — ' If Nature herself 
opposes us, we will compel her to obey.' " 



WHY "OUR BOYS WISHED TO VISIT SOUTH AMERICA. 49 

" My boy, you have begun well. I like your first number. 
Caracas, in the maritime Andes, is a glorious city. There the 
statue of Bolivar is a noble sight, as the hero seems leaping 
on horseback to make the nation free. The statue of Wash- 
ington, too, is there. But as Humboldt says, — 'Caracas 
sleeps in her own grave.' " 

" What did he mean by that ? " asked Leigh. 

" Ten thousand people went down in the earthquake in the 
year of the Independence, and the survivors rebuilt the city 
where the old city had gone clown. The earth trembles 
there yet. What next would you like to see ? " 

" 2d. The tomb of San Martin in Buenos Ayres." 

"And why ?" 

"He liberated Argentina, Peru, and Chili, and then sought 
nothing in reward. I think that General San Martin is one 
of the greatest heroes of modern times. Think of it ! " said 
Leigh enthusiastically ; " the Argentine Republic offered him 
supremacy, but he said, ' I did not fight for power.' Chili came 
to him to present him ten thousand ounces of gold, but he gave 
it back, saying, ' I did not fight for gold.' And then Peru laid 
at his feet the crown, and he answered, ' The presence of a 
fortunate general in the country where he has won victories 
is detrimental to the state : I have won the Independence of 
Peru; I have ceased to be a public man.' He left his coun- 
try for the peace of his country when he saw that Bolivar 
could accomplish the work of the Independence better than 
himself : he lived and died in self-exile and poverty. That 
was a hero ! I would rather see his tomb than any other 
man's in all America except those of Washington and Lin- 
coln. San Martin was not only the greatest of Creoles — he 

E 



50 OVER THE ANDES. 

was one of the greatest and noblest of all souls that have 
ever risen in the world ! " 

" Bravo ! " said Uncle Henry. " What a good South Ameri- 
can you would make ! I am glad to hear you speak thus of 
San Martin, who organized the Army of the Andes. A nation 
is known by the heroes it crowns, and a boy by the hero he 
praises. Do you know what was the motto of San Martin ? " 

" No, Uncle, what was it ? It must have been one to be 
followed." 

" It was — it was this — ' Thou must be that which thou 
oughtest to be, or else thou shalt be nothing.' Lo que seras 
dcbes ser." 

" The whole truth of life is in that motto, Uncle, is it not ? 
You have seen the tomb." 

" Yes, they crowned him dead at last, who would not be 
crowned while living. Your second memorandum is excel- 
lent. I really think that you have the spirit to visit South 
America. What next ? " 

" 3d. The ruins of the Temple of the Sun. There was the 
highest pagan worship ever seen on earth. The Peruvians 
worshipped the sun as the gift of God to them. 

" 4th. Tupungato and Aconcagua. I would cross the Cor- 
dillera over the Transandine highway under these heights, as 
I have heard you describe." 

" Only a short distance of that railway now remains to be 
completed," said Uncle Henry. 

" 5th. I would see Chimborazo and Quito, and Cotopaxi. 

" 6th. I would visit the schools that Sarmiento founded in 
the Argentine under the guidance of Horace Mann." 

" So would I," said Arline. " We will go that way." 



WHY "OUR BOYS WISHED TO VISIT SOUTH AMERICA. 5 1 

" 7th. I would see Santiago, and the associations of Balma- 
ceda, who was an advocate of universal education." 

"So would I," said Arline. 

" 8th. I would see the tomb of Sarmiento, — his tomb who 
brought civilization out of barbarism." 

" So would I," said Arline. " Miss Peabody knew him." 

" 9th. I would go to the old palace of Dom Pedro, a man 
who gave his heart to his people, though they broke it at last. 

" 10th. And I would visit the Ouitua Indians, that wronged 
'race, to whom the whole civilization of the world ought to 
make atonement. I should love to be a helper in a move- 
ment to carry education to these Indians. It makes my 
heart burn when I think of these poor remnants of the 
splendid people whom the conquerors murdered and robbed." 

" My heart is there, too," said Arline. 

" There is a company of young Englishmen who have al- 
ready organized for the purpose of educating the Quituas," 
said Uncle Henry. 

Some boys, friends of Alonzo and Leigh, had come upon 
the veranda. Uncle Henry, who was an " Uncle " to them 
all, asked one of these what he would most wish to see if 
he could go to South America. 

" Well, Uncle, I would like to see an armadillo, and tickle 
him and pull him out of his hole ; and a live coral snake, and 
drink some yerba-mate out of a bombilla, and go up the 
Oroya railroad to the top of the Andes, twelve thousand feet 
high, and ride down all the way back in a hand-car, as other 
travellers have done, and you once did. Wouldn't that be 
great? I think I'll do that some day — makes me dizzy to 
think of it now." 

" You are a very intelligent boy," said Uncle Henry. 






CHAPTER V. 

WHY ARLINE WISHED TO VISIT PERU — "AUNT MARY WHITE, 
THE GOLDEN" — THE MOST WONDERFUL BIRDS IN THE 
WORLD — THE INCA BIRD, WHOSE PLUMES WERE JEWELS. 

THE next evening Captain Henry, his two nephews, and 
Arline met again under the vines of the hospitable 
veranda. 

" Well, Arline, My Girl, are you now ready to tell us why 
you made the extraordinary remark yesterday, that you would 
like to go to the Desert of Tarapaca ? I have not got over 
being stunned by it yet." 

" Yes, Uncle, I have talked with mother about it, and I am 
willing to tell you all that is in my heart. You remember 
Aunt Mary White, Uncle ? " 

" Yes, yes ; she that was Mary White, now Dona Blanco, 
with many more names. She has been sending home Peru- 
vian mummies to colleges : dried bodies of Peruvian lords 
and ladies that lived no one knows how many centuries ago. 
She went to London to study music, and the next that we 
knew of her she was a Dona, in Peru ; but how she got to 
Peru is a mystery to all of her old friends. She never has 
written to any one but your mother and you. She always 
liked you, Arline, and your mother calls her your ' Golden 
Aunt of Peru.' " 

52 






WHY ARLINE WISHED TO VISIT PERU. 53 

"Well she may. Don't forget, Uncle, that when we had 
our fair for the charitable kindergartens, my ' Golden Aunt of 
Peru ' sent us a check for one hundred dollars, and said in a 
beautiful letter, ' Change this into the tears of the sun.' To 
the old Peruvians gold was the tears of the sun." 

"Sentimental, wasn't she ?" said Alonzo. "I would like 
to have a Golden Aunt to weep some of those tears of the 
sun for me." 

"And," continued Arline, "when Elizabeth Peabody 
needed money for her work, Aunt Golden made the sun 
weep again. Her heart was always full of gold, even when 
she was poor in pocket. 

" Well, Uncle, she had, as you know, a friend in Miss Pea- 
body, who was a friend of Sarmiento, the leader of education 
in the Argentine Republic. Miss Peabody was a kindergart- 
ner, and Aunt Golden has established a kindergarten school 
near Lima, in her own patio. Her husband is a doctor and 
is engaged in the exportation of the nitrate of soda, and she 
wrote to me some months ago, that if she had help, she 
would open kindergarten schools among the children of the 
laborers of Tarapaca." 

Uncle Henry lifted his hands. Alonzo exclaimed, "Queen 
Scheherazade! " 

Arline turned away, as if abashed at her own fancies 
which she had disclosed. 

Uncle Henry shook his head at the boys. Arline after a 
time returned, bringing a caged blue front Brazilian parrot 
from the garden of the orchid-house. 

"Saca la pata, papagayo," said Uncle Henry to the parrot. 
(Put out your paw.) "No, caro," answered Polly, though 



54 OVER THE ANDES. 

whether the bird meant to say, "No, dear," or "no quero" (I 
won't), we cannot say. If the latter, she suddenly changed 
her mind, to an amiable mood, for she got down from her 
perch and put out her claw, which Uncle Henry and the boys 
shook affectionately. 

"Pretty Loro!" said each. "Good little Loro ! " Loro 
is a common name for a parrot in Spanish countries. 

" If we were to go to South America," said Uncle Henry 
to Arline, " and take you another time, what would you have 
us bring you? " 

The girl seemed struck at heart, but she made a kinder- 
garten resolution. 

" Oh, bring me from Brazil another bird as darling as 
Loro," said Arline. She added absently " l another time.' ' 

" Loro wants to come out," said the Brazilian bird in 
good English. 

" Well, you darling little creature, you shall come out," 
said Arline, opening the cage door; " and you shall be one of 
of us, just like the rest of us." The bird ran to Arline. 

"And I will go to Brazil and get you a mate, little Loro," 
said Leigh. " I was telling uncle, while you were gone," 
continued Leigh, " of some of the things that I would like to 
see in South America. I hadn't got through." 

" But what would you most like to see in South America ? " 
asked Arline, with wide eyes. 

" Myself," said Leigh. 

"But that wouldn't be — well — it would only be 
yourself." 

" And that to me would be a great deal, wouldn't it, 
Loro ? How would I see anything else if I didn't see 



WHY ARLINE WISHED TO VISIT PERU. 55 

myself there first ? There are some birds that I would 
like to find in Peru." 

" Parrots ? " asked Arline. 

" No, no, no ! I would find a parrot for you in Brazil, 
and that would be all the parrots I would ever care to look 
for. Now, if we should go, Arline, I will bring you home 
the most lovely parrot that I can find in all my journey, to 
be company for Loro." 

" You would have a large company of parrots to choose 
from," said Uncle Henry. "The steamers on the Parana 
are often loaded with parrots. There is a large market 
for these birds among the sailors of the ports of Buenos 
Ayres." 

"What other birds do you wish to see?" asked Arline. 

"I would like to see the Loddigesia mirabilis! " 

Leigh had been a reader of Hudson's delightful work, — 
"A Young Naturalist on the La Plata." 

Arline dropped the parrot into her lap, and held up 
both hands, after the manner of Uncle Henry. 

" Oh, Leigh, Leigh ! what a name for a bird ! How did 
you ever remember it all the same day? Speak it again." 

" The Loddigesia mirabilis. That's easy." The parrot 
laughed. 

"Well, what kind of a bird is that, Leigh?" 

" It is the most beautiful humming-bird in all the world. 
It lives in Peru. There's only one that has been found 
in fifty years. It may be that I will find the other." 

Leigh went into the library and brought out a book. 
"Here, Arline," said he, "here it is," and exhibited to 
Arline and to Loro a surprising picture. 



56 OVER THE ANDES. 

"But," continued Leigh, "there is a more wonderful 
bird than that in the Peruvian forest (or there may be, if 
it be not extinct) that I would like to catch. There are 
birds that dance there, but this one is not a dancing-bird. 
There are birds that ring bells there (bell bird), or that 
ring bells without any bells, but this is not a bell-ringing 
bird. It is a coraquenque ! " 

Arline threw up her hands again in wonder, and little Loro 
laughed out, " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 

" You needn't laugh at me, Loro," said Leigh. " One cora- 
quenque would be worth two thousand of you." 

"What is a coraquenque?" asked Arline. 

" The bird with the Inca feather." 

"But the Incas are all gone," said Arline. "Tell me about 
the bird." 

" It was the rarest and most curious bird that inhabited 
the Peruvian forests in the days of the Incas. It had a few 
feathers that were the most beautiful, or thought to be, in all 
the world. The Incas used to wear a turban of many colored 
folds. It was called the llauta, and in this, as the insignia 
of royalty, were placed upright two feathers of the cora- 
quenque. 

"The birds from which these plume jewels were taken 
were found in a desert country among the mountains. It 
was death to destroy one of them. Each Inca had to have 
two of these plumes, and his plumes were not allowed to be 
used by the Inca who succeeded him. The feathers were the 
gems of the Incarial crown." 

"Are there any of these birds left? " asked Arline. 

" I do not know. We are going to see, aren't we, Uncle ? " 



WHY ARLINE WISHED TO VISIT PERU. 57 

"You might take me with you," said Arline, "and Loro," she 
added, choking, for the words "another time" prevented her. 

"Adios ! " said Loro. 

Arline laughed away her hurt feeling and clasped the par- 
rot to her neck and said, " You little darling bird ! You do 
feel for me, don't you ? " 

" Uncle Henry, why did you speak of going to South 
America with Alonzo and Leigh, and of taking me there 
some other time?" 

"You are young, Arline." 

" But, Uncle, am I too young to go with you to Peru, to 
visit Aunt Blanco, with mother's own permission ? " 

" I will think of your question, My Girl." 

" It would be education to me," said Arline. " No, Uncle, 
let me go, if you go, and I want you to go." 

" I might leave my affairs with the London agent to man- 
age, and change my plans of returning to South America by 
the way of Southampton, and go by the way of La Guayra, 
and thence down the coast." 

" Do so, Uncle, if it will be good business," said Alonzo. 
" I wish to visit South America with you before I choose a 
business occupation." 

" I wish to go," said Leigh. " I always liked to study 
Spanish language and literature. I admire the South Ameri- 
can heroes." 

" I do not wish to go ' another time,' Uncle." 

" I will think of the plan," said Uncle Henry. He did. 
He talked with the mother of Arline in regard to it. He was 
surprised to hear the good woman say, — 

" I am glad that Arline has benevolent purposes. Life 



58 OVER THE ANDES. 

has many sides to it. You would not hesitate to take Arline 
to Europe with you. Why might she not profitably go to our 
friend in Peru with you ? " 

The question brought Uncle Henry to a decision. He 
said to his nephews and to Arline the next day, — 

" You may all begin to study Spanish. We will go by the 
way of La Guayra." 

The evening after Uncle Henry made this decision, he 
met Alonzo alone in the summer-house in the garden. 

"Alonzo," he said, " I am facing the sixties, which is the 
youth of old age, and the old age of youth. I do not know 
what my future is to be. My wife has gone, and I have no 
children but you and your brother and Arline. You are all 
as dear to me as my own children could be. 

" You have come to me, now that you have graduated, 
to ask me to help you choose a business occupation. Leigh 
has done the same. I have no children of my own. You 
have no father and mother. We all of us have some means ; 
enough, I hope, to keep us from poverty. 

" You say to me, as though I were your father, ' What are 
you going to do with me ? ' Leigh asks the same question. 
Alonzo, in my old age fast coming on, what are you going 
to do with me? I could not live without you and Leigh and 
Arline, or without one of you. I wish to live with one of 
you, and share your young life." 

Arline suddenly stood before him. 

" I was saying, Arline, that I wish to pass my old age with 
you, Alonzo, or Leigh, or with you all." 

" I am the one, Uncle Henry. You will pass your old age 
with me. I am the one that will need you most." 



WHY ARLINE WISHED TO VISIT PERU. 59 

" What do you mean, Arline ? " 

She drew herself up into an earnest attitude. 

" Uncle Henry, I have a plan of life in my mind for us, 
us two, or for all of us. I am going to try to influence you 
to want to adopt it. I would scorn to try to influence you in 
any hidden or underhanded way, — I mean that I would scorn 
to try to influence you, and not tell you of it, or to do it for 
any selfish reason. I do not want your money, nor any luxu- 
ries that it can buy, but I do want you. You can help me." 

"How?" 

" That is the secret of my heart. You would shake your 
head, if I were to tell you now, and would say, ' That can 
never be.' Gradually, I will open my heart to you. I have 
told mother all; I have told Leigh all; and to be honest, I 
must tell you that I have a secret purpose on my heart, and 
that you are in that purpose, and that I am not seeking any- 
thing for myself." 

"Arline, I do not know what you mean, but this I do know, 
that you are a noble girl. I will have to choose between you 
three, by and by. I will have to leave my property, hard- 
earned on the sea, to some one. I want it to be to you : I 
want some of you, or all of you, to have the estate at Milton 
Hills." 

" Leave your property to Alonzo and Leigh, or to whom 
you will, I am not thinking of that, Uncle — that is not in my 
secret. I will have some small means of my own. I do not 
want your money : I want your experience." 

" My experience ! " Uncle Henry threw up his arms 
higher than ever before. " Are you going to run a line of 
merchant ships, Arline ? " 



6o OVER THE ANDES. 

The girl turned away pleasantly. 

" Queer, ain't she ? " said Uncle Henry to Alonzo. " But 
true as the Pilgrim Fathers. She is a Frobisher. Alonzo, 
I shall endeavor to study the bent of your mind and that of 
Leigh and of Arline during our journey, and when it is 
ended I will either know what advice I ought to give you all, 
or perhaps you will see what advice you ought to give me, 
you and Leigh, or Arline. Let us be true to each other." 

" Uncle, you were true to Leigh and to me when we were 
left orphans, and you have sons in us, and I know that you 
have a daughter in Arline." 

Later in the evening, Uncle Henry met Leigh. 

" Leigh," he said, "this journey that we propose making is 
likely to exert an influence on your life and a change of a 
profession. What would you most like to become ? " 

" I would first become a teacher. I would prefer to teach 
literature ; but I do not wish to teach for money alone, but 
somewhere where I can be of real use to the world. If I 
could study Spanish on our way, and could secure a place in 
some South American city to teach English, would you not 
make your home with me ? You are in my heart, and in my 
plans and dreams of life ; I always put you into my home. I 
would not be happy without you ; I want you, as soon as I 
have a home, to make your home there." 

Captain Henry Frobisher was not easily moved, but he 
strongly felt the force of what both Arline and Leigh had said. 

" I must follow these children," he said; "not try to lead 
them. I must simply help them to follow their own hearts — 
they are all true hearts, and it is enough for me to be blessed 
in them." 



WHY ARLINE WISHED TO VISIT PERU. 6 1 

He then began to think as to what and where this journey 
might lead him. 

Facing sixty ? Yes, but sixty is only " the youth of old 
age." Some of the best men of the world have done their 
best work after that. 

Leigh would " first " become a teacher, but, like Arline, he 
evidently had another purpose in his heart. 



CHAPTER VI. 

UNCLE HENRY AT HOME ARLINE's VIEWS OF ELIZABETH 

PEABODY AND KINDERGARTENS — THE STORY OF PRO- 
FESSOR GOULD AND HIS SOUTH AMERICAN OBSERVATORY 

— UNCLE HENRY NEW HOLIDAYS — HIS STORY OF THE 

LITTLE GOOSE THAT CAME BACK. 

THE summer passed; the green leaves turned to russet 
and gold, and the time of Thanksgiving drew near. 

" It will be the last Thanksgiving Day that we will spend 
together in our old Milton home for a year or more," said 
Captain Henry Frobisher to his nephews and niece. " Emer- 
son used to say that he was not much of an advocate of 
travel ; that people go abroad because they do not amount 
to anything at home, and that they return home again be- 
cause they do not amount to anything where they go. I do 
not agree with the Sage of Concord in this. It is travel that 
has brought into union the families of the nations ; that 
enables one nation to profit by what is best in other nations. 
It was Crusades that advanced mediaeval Europe. It is travel 
that is uniting mankind in one family for the common good 
of all. Historical travel is an education that makes a man 
large-minded and large-hearted." 

" Do you know, Uncle," said Leigh, " what will be the 
supreme hour of my life as it appears to me now ? " 

62 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 6$ 

" When you cross the equator," answered Arline, for 
Uncle Henry. 

" No," said Uncle Henry. 

" It will be when I shall stand on the summit of the 
Andes." 

"On La Cumbre," said Uncle Henry. "The mountains 
around you will only be hills at that point, and so you will 
be disappointed." 

" I am with you, Leigh," said Arline. " I dream of the 
Andes by day and night. I can see them glowing in my 
mind now. I wonder if they will look as I now see them. 
But it is not scenery that I most wish to see. It is something 
else. It is not to see the ' Pearl of the Pacific ' that makes 
me most want to go to Lima. I want to find a place in 
life." 

Captain Henry lifted his hands again. 

"Shades of Elizabeth Peabody ! " he said. "While you 
live, Arline, the influence of that good old lady will go on 
in one of her pupils, for sure." 

" She was a glorious woman," said Arline. " She not 
only introduced kindergarten education into this country, 
but she was a friend of Sarmiento ; and the South Ameri- 
can normal school to make leaders of men after the Froebel 
plan seemed for years to be the object dearest to her heart. 
I used to hear her talk on ' Spiritual Education,' and 
'Kindergartens in Italy,' and 'The Normal School for Argen- 
tine,' and the heart training that fixes the child's habits. 
You may laugh at me, but my memory of that woman has 
become my life ; and I would give more for her little 
finger than for many other people's heads ; and I would 



64 OVER THE ANDES. 

rather be able to wear her old bonnet with her influence 
than to have the crown of Peru, with all of its coraquenque 
feathers, emeralds, and gold. She used to tell me that the 
purpose of life is to grow. Now, I just wish to live for the 
things that last. I have read all of Miss Peabody's books 
on education, — those that she edited, and all, and there is 
quite a library of them. She was mother's friend, and father 
used to say that her visits made a holiday. They did for 
me. I shall never forget her — never ! What a woman she 
was ! she could talk all the languages of literature, and I 
have not mastered the Spanish yet. But I will learn that 
language, for I am going to grow." 

Uncle Henry seemed a little amazed at the tenor of these 
remarks, but he clapped his hands when the climax was 
reached, and said, — 

" That is right, Arline. Grow ! grow ! grow ! " 

" And don't crow, crow, crow," said Alonzo, saucily, who 
had never entered into Miss Peabody's visions, which are 
now becoming realities after the gifted woman is gone. 

Arline took up her Spanish grammar, and added, " I must 
study this if I would grow, grow, grow !" 

Arline, in her childhood, had been brought under Miss 
Peabody's influence. This led her to choose the kinder- 
garten training school as her means of development. 

Leigh had as strongly been influenced by another personality. 

He had taken a course of lectures on astronomy at the 
Lowell Institute. He had there come to view Professor 
B. A. Gould's work in the Argentine Republic, and he came 
to have as great an admiration for Dr. Gould as Arline had 
for the ideals of Elizabeth Peabody. 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 65 

William Wheelwright made new ports for South America, 
and Miss Peabody helped to inspire Sarmiento in his purpose 
to lay the foundation of a true system of education in Argen- 
tina ; but Professor Gould made himself an exile to Cordova 
in the Argentine for the sake of science. He there created 
the observatory that now has become one of the glories of 
science, where he mapped the stars of the Southern heavens. 
It was on his return that Dr. Holmes wrote : — 

" Once more Orion and the sister Seven 

Look on thee from the skies that hailed thy birth, — 
How shall we welcome thee, whose home was heaven, 
From thy celestial wanderings back to earth ? 

" Science has kept her midnight taper burning 
To greet thy coming with its vestal flame ; 
Friendship has murmured, 'When art thou returning?' 
'Not yet! not yet! ' the answering message came. 

" Thine was unstinted zeal, unchilled devotion, 

While the blue realm had kingdoms to explore, — 
Patience, like his who ploughed the unfurrowed ocean, 
Till o'er its margin loomed San Salvador. 

" Through the long nights I see thee ever waking, 
Thy footstool earth, thy roof the hemisphere, 
While with thy griefs our weaker hearts are aching, 
Firm as thine equatorial's rock-based pier." 

As poetic and sublime, though expressed in prose, is Presi- 
dent Eliot's view of this man's work in South America : — 

" I suppose there is no science which so touches the popu- 
lar mind as astronomical science. It deals with immensities, 
with great mysteries, with unfathomable space and illimitable 
time. And yet its agencies, its methods, are the most labori- 

F 



66 OVER THE ANDES. 

cms, patient, repulsive, one might almost say, of those of any 
science with which I am acquainted. When it comes to ob- 
serving the passage of a star across twenty miles in the field 
of the telescope with the utmost accuracy and precision, and 
doing that many times over for each star, and doing it for 
twenty thousand stars, the infinity of this minute and patient 
labor is strongly impressed upon our minds. And when the 
declinations of countless stars have been observed, and the 
observer has to read through the microscope every time with 
the greatest possible care the gradations upon the circle, we 
have another immense labor of the same character. 

" Then there are hundreds and thousands of logarithms to 
be taken out of the tables, which Dr. Gould used to do, and 
immense columns of figures to be added together every time 
there was a mistake. And then there are fifteen great quarto 
volumes of proof-sheets to be read by Dr. Gould, and not a 
mistake must be made in the whole. Imagine, gentlemen, 
the intense labor, the routine character of the labor, the 
patient, minute accuracy at every step, and I think we see 
that progress into the infinite is won by the most laborious 
attention to an immense mass of minute details ; and I sup- 
pose that is the way we always gain access into the infinite — 
in human life, as well as in science. These achievements of 
Dr. Gould represent a labor, and patience, and perseverance, 
and resoluteness which it is impossible to describe." 

A terrible affliction came to Dr. Gould while he lived at 
Cordova. It was one that touched many hearts, for he who 
goes away in the service of the world has all men for brothers. 
Dr. Gould lived many years at Cordova, which is situated on 
a branch of the Parana, the river of the Gran Chaco. He 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 67 

was a Boston Latin School graduate, and. one of those who 
had won the famous Franklin prize. He was graduated from 
Harvard University at the age of nineteen, and began life as 
a teacher in the Roxbury Latin School. 

The story of the great misfortune that befell him at Cor- 
dova has been told as follows : — 

" Distressing intelligence reached Boston on Fast Day, 1874, 
by the steamer from Buenos Ayres. It was that of death by 
drowning of two young daughters of Dr. B. A. Gould, with 
their female attendant. 

" Nearly four years ago," says the narrative, " Dr. Gould left 
this country by appointment from the Argentine Republic to 
establish an observatory in Cordova, three hundred miles 
from Buenos Ayres. 

" February 8 was the fourth birthday of his little son. The 
attendant, who had been his nurse almost from the day of his 
birth at Cambridge, and who was proudly fond of him, had 
asked that on that day, the high Sunday holiday of the Span- 
ish, the family would have a little rural observance at a spot 
about three miles from the observatory. They had gone 
thither, and had taken their morning meal on the grass. 
Near by, though not in sight of the spot where they after- 
ward reclined, was a stream of water, which might in most 
places be forded, as only ankle deep. The parents walked 
here with the children, and left them gleefully feeding with 
crumbs the little shining minnows. The girls asked and 
obtained permission to bathe with the attendant. In about 
a quarter of an hour the little boy came back to the parents, 
crying and saying that 'They had gone away in the river 
and not come back ' ; that ' Lulu was walking in the water and 



68 OVER THE ANDES. 

fell down ; Susie ran to her, and she fell down ; then Viny 
went in and fell down too.' 

" The parents, rushing to the shore, saw the clothes of their 
children and the shawl of their attendant, which she had 
evidently hurriedly thrown off to run into the water, lying 
together, but all else was vacancy and silence. Help was 
immediately summoned from Cordova and the observatory. 
Meanwhile it was remarked that, owing to some freshet above, 
the stream had been swelling and had become very turbid. 
After the most anxious and earnest searching, continued 
for nearly six hours, the three bodies were recovered by 
a diver from a pool some distance down the river. Then 
the parents were made aware that very near the shallow spot 
where their children had been playing was a clayey precipi- 
tous descent, like the wall of a house, into quite deep water. 
The younger daughter, walking off this, had seemed to her 
little brother to fall. Her sister and the attendant had 
instantly followed, to share the same fate, and a whirlpool 
current had borne them down the river. 

"On Monday evening, the next day, the precious little 
forms, enclosed in one casket, were committed to a tempo- 
rary grave of flowers on the observatory grounds. The 
heart-broken father read over them the burial service for 
children. With the exception of their governess and the 
young assistants of the observatory, no one of the sad group 
around understood a word of the service, but as they knelt, 
all seemed to offer the same prayer. The children were 
most fondly cherished as pets in that foreign clime and by 
that strange people, and they were full of promise in their 
characters and lives. Instead of being restored to those who 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 69 

loved them here, the parents, on their return, can bring only 
the precious relics to rest with kindred dust in Mount Auburn. 

" It was Dr. Gould's desire that the fond and devoted 
attendant, who gave her life in her effort to save her charge, 
should have here such a notice as may give information to 
her friends. It is this : ' Alvina Fontaine of Digby, Nova 
Scotia, aged twenty-five. The list of heroines and martyrs 
is not yet full.' 

" Having regard to what he supposed would be the wishes 
of her friends, Dr. Gould caused her remains to be interred 
in consecrated ground, with the rites of her own church and 
with masses." 

Leigh had been a pupil of the Roxbury Latin School, and 
the astronomical work of Dr. Gould had there been followed 
with pride by the pupils. The lectures that he had taken 
at the Lowell Institute had interpreted to him the true value 
of this man's self-sacrificing life, and had made him resolute 
to find some useful place in the world. 

It inspired him to think of the National Observatory at 
Cordova, where this great spirit lived and worked. 

Uncle Henry delighted in holidays, which he called " home 
days," when he was at home. He used to bring home many 
curiosities from the Southern ports for Christmas presents. 
On Thanksgiving Days, after the dinner, he loved to relate 
old port stories or "yarns of the sea." 

After his wife died, and his nephews and his niece came 
into his heart, and often into his home, Miss Peabody, that 
gentle philosopher of the multitude of gifts and accomplish- 
ments, unconsciously wrought a change in the manner of his 
keeping holidays. 



yO OVER THE ANDES. 

The good lady taught the children, through Arline's mother, 
that it was a Froebel principle, and one of true education, to 
make things to give away, and that on holidays the children 
should find their happiness in making presents rather than in 
receiving them. This view quite changed the spirit of the 
holidays in Uncle Henry's home, and made him a receiver 
more than a giver. 

But Captain Henry Frobisher was always the story-teller 
of these merry occasions, and his stories usually related to 
voyages in the Southern waters. One of these related to 
some sea-robbers captured off Jamaica, who, to conceal the 
proofs of their robberies, put their papers and treasures into 
a metal box, and sunk the box in the sea, as they supposed. 
They were tried at Jamaica : there were no proofs against 
them, and they were about to be acquitted, when the metal 
box, which the waters had not penetrated, came rolling in 
upon the beach with the strong tide, bringing to shore the evi- 
dence of their guilt. 

But the favorite story at Uncle Henry's table at holiday 
times was founded on a very curious incident, once very well 
known among the fisher families of the New England coast. 
We will ask Captain Frobisher to tell it here. 

THE LITTLE GOOSE THAT CAME BACK. 

The story that I am about to relate was once popular in 
the houses along the New England coast on November even- 
ings, when reunited families gathered around the old home 
fire, and of all the tales that used to be told by natural story- 
tellers on the unipod, tripod, or red settle, I know of none 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 7 I 

that has a more genuine mystery, or that leaves on the mind a 
more pleasing impression. 

There was in the latter part of the last century a great 
house with a gambrel roof on a hill overlooking the Mount 
Hope Bay, of historic fame, at a place called Bowers' Shore, 
at Somerset, Mass. Here lived a widow by the name 
of Le Doit, who had one daughter and five sons. Her 
youngest son, a boy of some fifteen years, was named Biel. 
He had not been used well by his brothers, for the reason 
that he had a yielding disposition that could be easily im- 
posed upon, and that his generous and affectionate nature 
made him a favorite with his mother, his teachers, and 
neighbors, and that excited the jealousy of the younger mem- 
bers of his own family. He became restless and unhappy, 
and began to cherish a desire, that was not uncommon among 
farmers' boys who lived near to ports at that time, to go to 
sea. 

Near Somerset, on the Fall River side of the bay, are large 
fresh-water ponds. Here the flocks of wild geese used some- 
times to stop on their long journey from the North to the 
South Lake Regions, and at such a time the boy Biel once 
caught a wild goose, and brought it to his home, and tied it 
by its leg to a post in the yard. An old sailor said that this 
kind of goose journeyed as far south as Mexico and Trini- 
dad. 

The captive wild goose excited a great interest in the 
neighborhood, where events outside of the coming and going 
of schooners were few. The neighbors came to see it, the 
teacher of the school, and the minister himself. Children 
gathered in the yard day by day ; and it was a kind of holi- 



72 OVER THE ANDES. 

day, when, on one Saturday morning, the boy Biel drove up 
the home flock of geese from the laurel pasture to make the 
acquaintance of the feathered stranger, who had indeed 
fallen from a very high estate, and had been left to very 
lowly associations. The domestic geese seemed to be greatly 
surprised to find the royal stranger thus pinned down to the 
earth in the farm-yard, and long and loud were their seeming 
discussions in regard to the matter. But after a time the 
wild goose seemed to learn the language of the flock, and to 
become friendly, and Biel cut her wing feathers, so that she 
could not mount again into the regions of the air, and gave 
her liberty to waddle about with her kind in the laurel past- 
ure, which she usually did a little apart from the flock. 

The next spring brought a wonder. The wild goose made 
for herself a curious nest in the laurel pasture, at a place 
called the " hazel pool." It was a hidden nest, and it con- 
tained nine eggs when Biel found it. But one day, when 
the cowslips were beginning to border the hazel pool, Biel 
went down to the pasture, and found the wild goose sitting 
upon her nest, dead. Some one had shot her. The grief of 
the boy, as he came bringing her home in his arms, was in- 
tense and bitter. He suspected one of his own brothers as 
the doer of this act of cruelty, and the result of it was that 
a coolness sprang up between him and the other boys. 

"Mother," he said one day, " I have no place here ; let me 
go to sea." 

" Oh, Biel," said his mother, " thou art an over-sensitive 
lad. It is the wild goose that is turning thy heart from 
home. Cheer up, boy ; we are all of us sorry that the goose 
has been shot ; there is not one of the family that would 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 73 

have injured her. Some one shot the goose accidentally, 
thinking that she was game." 

The woman looked distressed. She was about to raise her 
white apron to her face, when she felt a touch on her shoulder. 

" Annie ? " she said, looking around. 

" Yes, mum. May I say a word, mum ? You can set the 
wild goose's eggs under hens, mum, an' they will hatch out, 
mum, and Biel will have his wild goose again, mum, and a 
dozen of 'em, mum. Oh, it makes our hearts heavy to see 
Biel so down in the mouth, mum ! Biel has been good to me, 
mum ; he means to be good to everybody." 

"Annie," said Mrs. Le Doit, "you are right. I like to 
feel your touch on my shoulder ; it is always followed by 
healing words. Biel, what do you think about what Annie 
says ? " 

Annie was a Scotch-Irish workgirl, a little older than him- 
self. She had a true, feeling heart, and he liked her. His 
face brightened. 

" That I will. I will set the wild goose's eggs under hens." 

He bounded away, saying, " Oh, Annie, you shall have 
half the goslings if the eggs hatch ! I will ever be true to 
you. You have a heart to be remembered on land or sea." 

The wild goose's eggs were set under hens, but only one 
of them hatched, and that was a little Qgg such as is some- 
times found in a nest. It produced a little gosling, which 
was very bright and cunning. This one gosling Biel took 
into the house, and the bright, pretty, downy thing became 
the pet of the family. Every person in the neighborhood 
seemed to take an interest in it, for the people had all been 
sorry for the boy when the wild goose had been found shot. 



74 OVER THE ANDES. 

The gosling was called the Cade. A nest was made for him 
in a bushel basket. 

As the Cade became older, Biel took him out of the basket 
each day, and let him pluck the tender grass in the back 
yard. The back door, or porch door, opened into an entry, 
out of which was a cupboard. In the lower part of this cup- 
board, Annie, the workgirl, kept the Cade gosling's food, 
which consisted of Indian meal and water, called " dough." 
When the Cade had become a few weeks old, he found the 
way to this cupboard, and as often as he was in the yard, 
and the porch door was open, he would climb up the steps, 
into the entry, and find the dough-dish on the floor of the 
cupboard. 

There was a revival of trade between the Rhode Island 
ports, and Colombia and Venezuela. 

Quite a number of young farmers were about to embark 
as sailors for Trinidad and La Guayra on the Bowers' ship. 
The widow, seeing that so many of her neighbors' sons were 
choosing a sea life, at last consented to let Biel go to sea, and 
he, with a half a dozen others, prepared to embark on a ship 
called the " L'Ouverture." 

It was a sorry day for the little country port when the 
" L'Ouverture " sailed away. The people of the farms 
gathered on the wharves to see her start. 

"What will you do with the little Cade, Biel?" asked 
the widow, smiling amid her tears. 

" I will give it to you, Mother," said the boy. " Keep 
him until I come back." 

The widow felt a touch on her shoulder. 

"Annie," she said, "what, Annie?" 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 75 

" Give it back to him for a Thanksgiving goose. When 
you blow the dinner-horn, he will not be here." 

"Yes, yes," said the widow, "a bit of a Thanksgiving 
goose it shall be. Take him, Biel, and so make a Thanks- 
giving dinner in the forecastle, and invite to it all the boys 
that are going from here. I wish he were bigger. When I 
blow the dinner-horn at Thanksgiving-day noon, I will be 
thinking of you." 

Annie came out of the door bringing the expostulating 
gander, which she put under the sailor-boy's arm. 

The boys of the farm village shouted and tossed up their 
hats when they saw him coming down to the vessel with the 
gander under his left arm. 

The captain of the " L'Ouverture" had been instructed to 
use his ship in a way that should bring the most profit to 
the owners, consistently with law and honor. It was several 
years before she returned, and the ship's mails, on account 
of the war, had been intercepted and failed to be delivered. 

A shadow fell on the little farming community around 
Bowers' Shore after that first year. First came anxiety, and 
then a restless fear, as people said in little groups by them- 
selves, " Something must have happened to the ' L'Ouver- 
ture.' " There were mothers who used to go up to the green 
hills overlooking the bay, and stand alone, shading their eyes 
with their hands. Annie used to go there ; she heard the 
wild geese go over in the spring, and come back again in the 
fall, honking, honking, honking, usually very high in the blue 
sky, but the sails of the " L'Ouverture " did not return in the 
spring or in the fall. 

On the third November after the ship had gone, the widow 



j6 OVER THE ANDES. 

Le Doit stood in the porch door on Thanksgiving Day. She 
took down the old dinner-horn, and was about to blow it, when 
she felt a touch on her shoulder. 

"Annie! What, girl?" 

" Have you heard something strange ? " 

" No, girl ; what ? " 

" I don't know. There is something strange." 

" Where, Annie ? " 

" Down in the pasture. Listen ! " 

The widow Le Doit stood silent. 

Presently a loud cackle of geese filled the air, and with it 
a bell-like sound of honk, honk, honk. It was a very joyous 
trumpet-like sound. 

" It reminds me — " She dropped the dinner-horn by her 
side, and her apron flew up to her face. 

" You may go about your work, Annie ; I'll blow the horn, 
when I am ready. I sha'n't have any appetite to-day, but I 
will have to keep up heart." The girl did not move. 

" Oh, Mother Le Doit, for you have been just like a mother 
to me, blow the horn." 

" What for, Annie ? " 

" For the geese." 

" You're daft, Annie ; what do I want to blow the horn for 
the geese for? If these were not sorry times, I would have 
to laugh at you." 

"Just to see what effect it will have upon them," said 
Annie. 

" You may blow it yourself." 

" No ; that would not sound natural." 

" Natural ? What do you mean by that, Annie ? " 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. yj 

" Oh, something tells me that the pasture is haunted- 
like ; that something is about to happen. Please blow the 
horn, and let me listen, and then I will go about the 
dinner." 

The widow Le Doit blew the horn. Lusty echoes came 
back from the hills where the white gravestones shone in 
the sun. 

Something else came back on the clear, mellow air. It 
caused the dinner-horn to drop at the widow's side. " Honk, 
honk, honk ! " 

"A wild goose," said the widow Le Doit. "We haven't 
any — now." 

"We had one once," said Annie, beginning to tremble. 

The eyes of the two met. 

" Why did the wild goose in the pasture answer the horn ? " 
asked the girl. 

" Oh, Annie, this is dreadful ; and on this day, too ! Why 
did that wild goose down there answer the horn ? I don't 
know. Do you think that it really is a wild goose, or has — 
something — happened ? " 

" There is only one little wild goose in the world," said 
Annie, "that knows the sound of that horn, or could answer 
it. Blow it again, Mother, once more." 

The widow lifted up the horn, and blew it more violently 
than before, sending a ringing peal over the hills. The two 
listened. There was no response from the laurel pasture, 
but a dark form rose into the clear, bright air, and came fly- 
ing low over the fields. 

" Annie, what is that ? " 

" It is a sign, Mother, that Biel is dead. That is a little 



J8 OVER THE ANDES. 

wild goose, and, oh, Mother ! it will vanish soon. It is not a 
good sign — -it is flying low." 

But the wild goose did not vanish. On it came, like a fly- 
ing fragment of a cloud in the sunlight, and with another 
trumpet-like honk, it alighted in the shadow of the frost- 
smitten elm. A young dog had been brought to the place 
within a year, a fowler. He heard the honk, and rushed 
toward the place. The goose rose on its wings and flew 
back to the pasture, beside a long cornfield full of Indian- 
summer hazes. 

The family and visitors were now answering the call of the 
horn. The sitting-room was full of guests. The parson had 
arrived with his black suit, white stock, and collar. Squire 
Holmes was there, and he and the parson were observed to 
be talking very confidentially together. Annie heard the 
squire say : — 

" You needn't say anything about it, Elder. If I only be- 
lieved in such things, I should say that that ship went down, 
and the cornfield was haunted." 

" Geese don't have ghosts," said the tall parson, solemnly. 
" The better thing for us is to keep quiet, and show our 
wisdom." 

Old Dr. Diggs, as he was called, — really, Dr. Daggett, — 
was there. He was a natural doctor, — a root and herb man, — 
full of superstition. It used to be said in the town, " If any 
one wants to receive a lift heavenward, let him go to Dr. 
Diggs ; his remedies never fail." He used to pull teeth with 
a twister, " One for a quarter, and two for thirty cents." The 
twister was an economical instrument, and his dental-chair, 
which was the floor, was also an economy. He would sit a 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 79 

young man down on the floor between his knees, and apply 
the twister to the aching tooth, and the result was such 
as to make a lively impression on susceptible women-folk, 
who usually started at the first cries for mercy for the 
nearest doors with their fingers in their ears. But the ven- 
erable doctor assured his young patients that the twister was 
" a sure thing, and that when it was applied to a molar, the 
tooth was sure to come." It was. 

The old doctor had heard the words "haunted," "corn- 
field," and he put them together in a manner calculated to 
excite an alarming curiosity. He was about to ask the squire 
what he had heard about " the haunted cornfield," when the 
parson rapped on a dinner-plate with a fork, and bending 
over the table, said, " For all that we are about to receive, O 
Lord, make us truly thankful, and may all of the mysteries 
of life turn into mercies, that whatever happens to us may be 
for our good and thy glory ! " 

It was a quiet company that sat down to the bountiful 
meal in the old farm-house on that Thanksgiving Day. No 
one was inclined to talk. Every one's thoughts seemed to 
be wandering, as though there were some nameless mystery 
in the air. 

In the midst of this mental depression, Annie came glid- 
ing into the room, with wide, lustrous eyes, and stealing up 
behind the widow, touched her on the shoulder. 

" Annie, what now, girl ? " 

" I have heard it again, Mother ! " 

" Heard what ? " asked the widow, starting. 

"The wild goose." 

" Where, girl ? " 



80 OVER THE ANDES. 

"Alone — all by itself — in the cornfield." 

The men started up, and all of them, except the parson 
and the doctor, went to the mysterious field. 

They returned, having found nothing. The widow met 
them at the door. She heard their report, and said, — 

"Annie, bring me the dinner-horn." 

The widow took the horn and sent forth a peal that echoed 
loudly and clearly from the sunset hills. 

A trumpet tone answered it. It was a sound of joy. 
Wings rose in the red air ; black wings bearing up a white 
and black body, and a long neck. It was a wild goose. 

The widow Le Doit, old as she was, ran down the faded 
garden walk that led to the fields. The wild goose lowered 
his flight as he saw her, and alighted on the grape-vined 
garden wall, then dropped to the ground. She turned toward 
the door, and he followed her. 

He walked up the garden way toward the entry door. He 
climbed up the stone steps into the entry, turned into the 
cupboard, and opened the unfastened cupboard door with a 
side pressure of his head and bill, as the young gander had 
been used to do, three years before. 

The widow went into the guest-room. There were smiles 
on her lips, and tears in her eyes. She sunk down into a 
chair, between the elder and the doctor, saying: — 

" The ' L'Ouverture ' is near the coast. The little wild 
goose has come back again." 

" Not that one ? " said the doctor. 

"Yes, the one that my boy carried away." 

" But that would be extraordinary, very extraordinary, in- 
deed. How do you know that that is the one ? " 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 8 1 

" He knew the way into the house ; there is only one little 
wild goose in all the world that could have known that. He 
followed me, and there is no other bird of his kind that would 
have done so. And, Doctor, he knew more than that ; he 
knew the way to the dough-dish, and he is there now." 

" Madam, your senses have left you ; that was a spectre 
that you saw, a spectre from the haunted cornfield. The 
' L'Ouverture ' has gone down ; there is no wild goose in the 
cupboard ; you will never see that bird again, nor the ship, 
nor Biel. The Lord comfort you. I have studied these 
things, and I know. A spectre bird means — that the sea 
covers all." 

There was a great outcry on the porch. The wild goose 
had come out into the entry, and Annie had clasped him in 
her arms saying, "Tell me what you know ! " 

The girl came bringing the goose into the great room, and 
set him down on the top of the long dining-table, and the 
room filled with people. 

The news of the strange event flew through the town, and 
the kindred and friends of the seven young men who had 
sailed away on the " L'Ouverture" came running to the house. 

The wild goose's movement riveted all eyes. He drew up 
one leg under him, which caused the parson to smile, and the 
doctor to lift his brows. The latter cast his eyes around 
inquiringly. 

" What did I tell you? " he said. " One of his legs is gone 
now." 

The wild goose put his head under his wing, which move- 
ment seemed to be a good omen to the elder, and a bad one 
to the doctor. 



82 OVER THE ANDES. 

"There," said the latter, " his head has gone after his leg; 
he will all go soon. I tell you, he is an eidolon." 

The company looked toward the elder. 

"Our hearts are being prepared," said he, "for a true 
Thanksgiving." 

Hope again lighted all faces, when the doctor waved his 
hand, and the motion brought silence and shadow. The 
company stood still. The doctor was about to speak, when 
something happened. 

The wild goose's head seemed to shoot forth from his 
body. He shook it, dropped his leg with a backward kick, 
and uttered a soft, pleasant, uncertain sound, and then sud- 
denly sent forth a trumpet-like honk that pierced the rafters. 
The company shrank back, pressing upon each other. The 
doctor ran, crying out, " The dragon ! " 

" The goose hears something," said Annie. " I thought 
that I did. I will go and see. I am not afraid now, after 
what the elder has said." 

The girl went out. As she did so, she met the doctor. 

" Let me go," said he. " I have seen enough. I have 
spoken, and all the gold in the world couldn't keep me any 
longer in a place like this." 

The widow Le Doit sat with her back toward the door. 
The company was silent, but she noticed a look of surprise 
coming into all faces. But so many strange things had hap- 
pened this day that she did not turn around. Then came a 
touch on her shoulder. She turned her face. 

"Annie ! Well, girl, what now?" 

She turned her face farther around. Annie was there; 
another face was there. There were eyes that she had 



UNCLE HENRY AT HOME. 83 

watched over in the cradle looking down ; there was a face 
that she had kissed a thousand times in its childhood and boy- 
hood bending above her. She lifted her hand gently, trem- 
blingly, and drew the face down. It was a young man's face. 

"Biel!" 

" We are all safe ! " he said, " all safely in from La 
Guayra. How strange! The little wild goose left the ship 
two days ago and got home before we did. How much of 
latitude and longitude these little dumb things do know ! " 

There followed a real Thanksgiving. 

One evening, as they were making preparations to leave 
Milton Hills, Uncle Henry said to Our Boys, as they all were 
seated around the first open fire: — 

" I am glad that you have chosen South America for our 
field of travel. South America may be the land of but little 
interest to our people now, but she holds the golden key of 
the future. You may each of you, and Arline also, find 
your calling in life in this journey that we have planned 
to make." 

" That is why I wish to go," said Alonzo. 

" Travel in one's young years is not only educational,'' 
said Uncle Henry; "it also shows a young man what he 
can best do in life: how he may be most useful. It dis- 
covers opportunity. I would not be surprised if you all were 
to find your opportunity for usefulness in the Southern coun- 
tries. You are all likely to choose your professions before 
you come back." 

" Would you have us all find situations in South America ? " 
asked Leigh. 



84 OVER THE ANDES. 

" No, no, no ! I would have you see there how you may 
improve some situation in North America. I have been 
studying that all my life. That kind of intelligence is what 
has built up our great importing houses. As for Arline, 
if she is closeting in her mind an opportunity to teach, she 
will find in those countries one of the largest schoolrooms in 
all the world. I do not know what to think of Arline, except 
that she has caught the spirit of Elizabeth Peabody, and is 
too modest to make known such a large ambition. 

" I prophesy that you will all see clear ways to serve your 
day and generation before you return. Every hour makes 
me impatient to be on board the steamer, bound for La 
Guayra." 

" I have the same feeling," said Alonzo. 

"And I," said Leigh. 

" And I," said a spirited girl, who had just entered the 
room. 






CHAPTER VII. 

TO LA GUAYRA FOR CARACAS FIRST VIEW OF THE ANDES — 

THE PEOPLE TURN OUT TO MEET THEM — ■ A LITTLE LIST. 

THE Frobishers began their journey by taking the Red D 
Line steamer "Caracas " for Caracas, of which La Guayra 
is the port. While the delightful sea route to South America 
by Southampton, England, taking in as it does many of the 
historic seaports of the Old World on the way, and while the 
Panama route down the West Coast to Valparaiso and thence 
over the Cordillera, are favorite ways with commercial trav- 
ellers, the journey down the coast from La Guayra to Buenos 
Ayres and over the Cordillera, and thence up the West 
Coast to Lima and Panama, presents more direct educational 
features to the student of South American history and trade. 
By this way one may visit nearly all the important ports and 
great inland cities. 

The voyage was uneventful. The steamer did not stop at 
Curacao, one of the queerest islands in all the world, where 
Holland may be found as she was in the times of Van 
Tromp. Here is the city of Willemstad, of some thirteen 
thousand inhabitants, of which the world seldom hears. The 
Dutch islands here, of which Curacao is the principal, have 
about forty thousand inhabitants. We are reminded of these 
habitations of the sea, chiefly by the fact that some of the 

85 



86 OVER THE ANDES. 

Red D Line steamers touch there, and by the Curasao 
oranges. 

The recollection of one of these oranges is likely to be a 
long one, as it is a castaway, an unripe fruit that falls from 
the tree, and is very sour and bitter. The liquor called cura- 
cao is made on these islands. 

The Caribbean Sea was very smooth, as the steamer ap- 
proached the coast. A veil of mist hung over it, and Alonzo 
and Leigh stood for hours on the lookout, watching for the 
Andes. 

The mist thinned, and the two boys saw a long greenness 
in the high air, like an island in the sky. 

" What is that, Steward ? " asked Alonzo. 

"The world topsy-turvy," said the man of the many 
brooms, mops, and pails. " Are you looking for the moun- 
tains, my lads ? " 

" Yes," said Alonzo, " for the Andes." 

" Well, there they are, as green as grass in a New England 
hay field in June. The port will soon be in sight." 

"What makes them so green, Steward?" asked Leigh. 

"Those are cactuses," said the steward. 

The mountains were covered with cacti. 

La Guayra now appeared in outline. Above the city was 
an odd-looking castle, which, we think, Charles Kingsley has 
pictured in "Westward Ho." 

The mountains behind the city seemed from the sea to 
rise perpendicularly, and the houses on their skirts to be 
plastered upon them like swallows' nests. 

The mist rose, and the sea around, the steamer lay in a 
long, calm, purple splendor. 



■t&s- '% 




THE AIR WAS FULL OF BIRDS AND THE HARBOR OF BOATS. 



TO LA GUAYRA FOR CARACAS. 8? 

The air was full of birds, and the harbor of boats, and the 
coast road was shaded with cocoanut-trees. 

The harbor had a sea-wall, but the passengers were com- 
pelled to land by boats and lighters. 

"All the city seems coming out to meet us," said Alonzo. 

Boats gathered around the steamer manned with swarthy 
men. They multiplied. Where did they come from ? — from 
out of the sea ? When the steamer came to a stop, and let 
down her steps, there was a whole town of boats around her. 
Hallooing ! was ever such heard in all the world ! Each 
boatman tried to catch the eye of a single passenger, and 
when he did so, he set up a cry offering his services in 
Spanish. 

" Now is your time, boys, to try the effect of your Span- 
ish grammar," said Uncle Henry, who was used to such 
scenes. 

Not a word that they had learned in their grammar did 
they recognize. It was all hubbub, chaos. 

"Are they pirates ? " Alonzo asked of Uncle Henry. 

" Pirates ? No ! speak to one of them ; try your Spanish 
now; this is a good place to begin." 

"Buenos dias, Senor," said Alonzo, to one of the boatmen, 
touching his hat. 

This true, democratic politeness had an immediate effect 
on the boatman. 

"Una peso, Sehor Don el Americano." 

Alonzo shook his head. 

11 Ho, cabellero ! " shouted back the man, followed by many 
exclamations, to which Alonzo could only answer, "No in- 
tendo." 



55 OVER THE ANDES. 

"You see," said Uncle Henry, "you have taken a fall." 

" How ? " asked Alonzo. 

" You were Seizor Don el Americano, now you are cabellero, 
without any titles or compliments." 

The sea was smooth, but the boats rocked, and there was 
some difficulty in getting upon them. But the confusion 
about the ship was small compared with that in landing at 
the custom-house wharf. 

Had the whole city indeed turned out to offer to carry the 
passengers' baggage ? 

" Hold tight to your belongings," said Uncle Henry to the 
boys. A great crowd of black and brown men — some lean, 
some fat, and all with large hats and very scanty clothing — 
seemed most eager to snatch the passengers' hand-baggage, 
and run with it to the custom-house, or to some less known 
place. These porters swarmed. Their outcries ! Their out- 
cries in their competitions were fearful. 

" Yo liablo Espanol" said Uncle Henry. 

Magic words ! The crowd of half-naked porters moved 
away. If the American gentleman could speak Spanish, he 
could attend to his hand-baggage himself, as it was but a 
short distance to the aduana. 

They went at once to the American consulate. Always 
go there first on landing in a Spanish or in any foreign city. 

The flag hung out on"the consulate, which was in a narrow, 
shadowy street. The consular rooms were attractive ; the 
welcome of the consul was most hospitable, and the place 
was crowded with people of many woes and wants. The 
consul had met Uncle Henry before. 

They stopped at an old rambling hotel full of queer apart- 






TO LA GUAYRA FOR CARACAS. 89 

ments. The dining-room was open to the air, and sur- 
rounded with vines and birds. 

"The water grows on trees in this country," said Uncle 
Henry to the boys. 

It did, by bucketsful. The cocoanuts here were nearly as 
large as water pails. 

" It is said that those who drink cocoanut water never fall 
sick or have the fever. I will order some, and we will go to 
the balcony in front of our rooms and drink it." 

He led the way to their rooms. 

"Agua — cocoanut," said Uncle Henry to a waiter, in 
passing. 

Presently, a black boy appeared in their rooms with two 
enormous cocoanuts with green covering, and a kind of a 
hatchet or cutlass called a machete. He struck off the top 
of the cocoanuts with his machete, and poured out what 
looked like pure water from one of them into a glass on 
the table. He set the two cocoanuts on end against the 
side of the room, and having shown " los Americanos" how 
to use them, left them for future use. 

The plaza was a most interesting place. The people 
work little in this city past mid-day. The portcnos, the boat- 
men, the negroes, the fruit-sellers, the dealers in various 
drinks, and the bird-sellers lounged about the place in the 
afternoon. Many of them slept here on the walls and earth 
under the shade of the trees, after the morning work. 

At noon the sun blazed. The sea seemed a dream. The 
birds moved lazily on their wings. The heat was intense, 
but over the coast loomed the great shadows of the Andes. 

Amid the fiery splendors of the sunset they went to the 



9<D OVER THE ANDES. 

great Venezuelan watering-place, in the tent-like cocoanut 
groves near the port. There were some beautiful villas here 
belonging to the nobility, who made the place a summer 
resort. It is a curious place on a narrow strip of land studded 
with lofty cocoanut palms which were commonly loaded with 
fruit. Above it rose the green walls of the Andes many 
thousand feet high ; below, rolled the Caribbean Sea, the 
Mediterranean of the semi-tropical world, stretching from 
Cuba to Trinidad, gemmed with the palmy islands of the 
Antilles, and overarched with fervid skies, lovely in their 
serenity, but terrible in cloud and storm. 

Here in and about the plaza were parrots waiting to be 
sold. Some of them spoke Spanish wonderfully, but the 
boys were "no intendo" to the information that they had to 
impart. 

After two days at La Guayra, where their health was per- 
fect, possibly under the good influence of cocoanut water, 
Our Boys took the " zigzag railroad " for Caracas. 

Arline was almost silent during the voyage. She seemed 
absorbed in her Spanish Grammar. She had taken with her 
Pilling's South American novels, Froebel's " Education of 
Man," " Don Quixote," and a translation in Spanish-Ameri- 
can ballads. 

She was often heard studying aloud in her room. The 
burden of her studies seemed to be the things pertaining to 
the escnela or school. 

She came out on deck to gaze with delight on the green 
Andes when they first appeared over the blue Caribbean 
Sea. 

" I seem to have seen them in my mind before," she said, 



TO LA GUAYRA FOR CARACAS. 91 

as the sun burst through the mist, lifting a veil, as it were, 
from a throne. 

Uncle Henry, who was always in a cheerful mood, re- 
garded Arline's studiousness with alarm. 

"Why, Arline," he said, "you seem to think more of 
your books than of the monkeys in the cocoanut-trees." 

"I do, Uncle." 

" Arline," he added, " we have come to the land where 
there are many things good to eat, and I want you to be a 
good girl and enjoy yourself so as to make me happy. I 
have a list of words that the boys have been studying, and 
which I wish you to study. You will need them. 

" Here is the list : — 

" Deme. — Cafe con leche (cofifee with milk). Pan y manteca (bread 
and butter). Te". Chocolate. Tostadas. Bizcochos (biscuits). 

" Sirvame. — Pasteles. Tortas. Bunuelos. Huevos pasados por agua 
(eggs passed through water — boiled) . Huevos fritos, Pescado frito. 
Fiambres. Rosbif. Pan caliente (hot bread). Carne asada-frita-hervida 
(roast meat — fried — boiled). Lomo de ternera or File (loin of veal). 
Compotas. Peras. Manzanas (apples). Melocotones. Naranjas (oranges). 
Bananas. Ananas (pineapples). Uvas (grapes). Higos (figs)." 

These were good words indeed, as the young student of 
South American Spanish will say. Our Boys found them 
very useful here and at Caracas. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

CARACAS AND THE LAND OF THE CHOCOLATE PLANT. 

ALTHOUGH Our Boys saw the Andes first in the sky, in 
the near view, yet in clear air these majestic water- 
fronts, which are eighty-six hundred feet high, much higher 
than the summit of Mt. Washington, may be seen at sea at a 
distance of from sixty to seventy miles. The maritime Andes, 
which here front the Mediterranean of the Antilles, have the 
appearance of a saddle, and are called La Silla. It is said 
that La Guayra is one of the most beautiful ports on earth, 
as seen from the sea on a clear day, and " the hottest place 
in all the world," and that "the hot season lasts all the 
time," which we hope is not true. Humboldt describes the 
coast here in a single line, which is more poetry than prose : 
"The Pyrenees, or Alps, stripped of their snow, rise out of 
the bosom of the waters." The plains of Venezuela, it is 
said, are capable of sustaining a population of five million 
people, and, although it is so hot on the coast, there are 
valleys in the country where the winds are so cold as to 
cause travellers to freeze to death. Here are forests larger 
than France. What will be the future of this empty world ?—- 
The journey up the mountain wall, which is covered with 
cacti, vines, and flowers, by the famous "zigzag railroad," is 
one ever to be remembered. 

92 



CARACAS AND THE LAND OF THE CHOCOLATE PLANT. 93 

Caracas is situated in a valley, about three thousand feet 
above the sea. The Andes tower above the city some four 
or five thousand feet. 

The valley of Caracas is charming to view, full of bright 
sunshine, gardens, and flowers. The white towers of the 
churches and public buildings are most picturesque amid the 
green mountain walls. Over the city rises Calvary Hill, a 
grand park, a flower garden pointing to the sky, a menagerie 
full of curious beasts and birds. 

In Caracas everything seems to bear the name of Bolivar : 
the money, the public places, the trades. 

The hero's tomb is here, and a magnificent equestrian 
statue of him adorns the plaza. Here, also, is a statue of 
Washington. 

Our Boys were now in the land of cocoa, a plant that 
deserves a lyric poem, for is it not the delight of all the 
civilized world ? 

How is this plant or tree cultivated ? How are the beans 
grown, prepared for shipment, shipped, and changed into 
the most delicious articles for food ? 

Soon after the discovery of America, the coasts of the 
Caribbean Sea were found to be the fields of the source of 
two great luxuries, as they were then deemed, — the tobacco 
and chocolate. The praise of the chocolate bean began in 
the times of the conquistadores, as the adventurers of the Con- 
quest were called. 

In the early accounts of the chocolate plant, we find that 
a larger tree used to be set by the chocolate tree to shelter it 
from the sun. 

Our Florida friends might find a method in this, for how 



94 OVER THE ANDES. 

to grow the chocolate tree seems to have been acquired as 
an art after failure. Perhaps some pans of burning resin, 
which emit a thick smoke that hugs the earth, might have 
saved many a beautiful orange grove during the great freeze, 
or some like protection for these golden treasures of the air 
may be found. 

Would you see the cocoa bean in the pod ? If you are a 
Boston boy, you may find specimens of these in the office 
of the great chocolate factory at Milton. 

The chocolate plant is known to botanists as Theobroma 
cacao, or " food for the gods," and food for the gods it is. The 
method of growing the plant is carefully described in a late 
consular report, which we quote : — 

" The tree grows to the average height of thirteen feet, 
and from five to eight inches in diameter, is of spreading 
habit and healthy growth, and although requiring much 
more care and attention than the coffee-tree, yet its equally 
reliable crops require comparatively little labor in properly 
preparing for the market. 

"... There are two varieties of the cocoa-tree cultivated 
in Venezuela, known as El Criollo and El Trinitario, respec- 
tively, the former of which, though not so prolific, nor as 
early fruiting as the latter, is yet superior to it in size, color, 
sweetness, and oleaginous properties of the fruit, and in the 
fact that it always finds ready sale, while the latter is often 
dull or neglected. The difference in price of the two varie- 
ties is also marked, the former being quoted at $28 to 
$30 per fanega (110 pounds), while the latter commands 
approximately half that price. 

" While coffee can be successfully cultivated under a 



CARACAS AND THE LAND OF THE CHOCOLATE PLANT. 95 

temperature of 6o° F., the cocoa-tree, for proper develop- 
ment and remunerative crops, requires a temperature of 
8o° F. ; hence the area of the cocoa belt is compara- 
tively restricted, and the cocoa planter presumably has not 
to fear the fierce competition that he has encountered 
in the cultivation of cotton and coffee. Besides the condi- 
tion of temperature above stated, this crop needs a moist 
soil and humid atmosphere ; and so the lands along the 
coast of the Caribbean Sea, sloping from the mountain tops 
to the shore, bedewed by the exhalations of the sea and 
irrigated by the numerous rivulets that course down the 
valleys, are found to be, in all respects, well adapted to the 
profitable cultivation of cocoa. And while the lands in 
the interior, possessing facilities for irrigation, may be said 
to be equally as good for the purpose, yet the absence of 
roads, and the consequently difficult transportation of prod- 
uce on the backs of donkeys over rugged mountain paths, 
materially reduce the profits on the crop before it reaches 
the market. 

"A cocoa plantation is set in quite the same manner as 
an apple orchard, except that the young stalks may be trans- 
planted from the nursery after two months' growth. No 
preparation of the soil is deemed necessary, and no manures 
are applied. The young trees are planted about fifteen feet 
equidistant, which will accommodate two hundred trees to 
the acre. Between rows, and at like spaces, are planted 
rows of the Bucare, a tree of rapid growth, that serves to 
shade the soil as well as to shield the young trees from the 
torrid sun. Small permanent trenches must be maintained 
from tree to tree throughout the entire length of the rows, so 



96 OVER THE ANDES. 

that, at least once in the week, the stream, descending from 
the mountains, may be turned into these little channels and 
bear needful moisture to tree and soil. At the age of five 
years the plantation begins to bear fruit, and annually yields 
two crops, — that ripening in June being termed the crop of 
San Juan, and that maturing at Christmas being known as the 
crop of La Navidad. The average age to which the trees 
attain, under proper care, may be estimated at forty years, 
during which period it will give fair to full crops of fruit ; 
but of course it must be understood that, as in our fruit 
orchards, a new tree must be set from time to time to 
replace one that may be decayed or blighted. After careful 
inquiry, it may be safely stated that the average crop of the 
cocoa plantation at ten years of age, and under a proper 
state of cultivation, will amount to five or six hundred pounds 
per acre. 

" In harvesting, the peons cut down the ripened pods, 
which are left for a time in a heap on the ground. The 
beans are then removed from the pods, and are taken to a 
place to be cured in sweating boxes. They are then dried 
in the sun and exported." 

The chocolate is grown in many hot countries, but its 
homes are the countries of the Caribbean Sea. The choco- 
late beans of Esmeraldas are very fine, and South America 
is said to use her best chocolate beans at home. When the 
beans are brought to the factory to make prepared cocoa 
for drink or confections, they are cleaned and roasted and 
crushed. They are mixed with sugar for certain purposes, 
and the flour is made into a hundred luxuries. The coffee 
kernel and chocolate bean both contain nutritive properties : 



CARACAS AND THE LAND OF THE CHOCOLATE PLANT. 97 

of the two, the last has the larger value. The culture of 
the chocolate plant must increase, and herein may lie a 
cause for an increase of population beyond the hot and 
unhealthy coasts of the Caribbean Sea, wherein are indo- 
lence, crime, the yellow fever, and, to the Englishman or 
American, a constant longing for home. 

Uncle Henry had been in most of the ports of South 
America, and was personally acquainted with many of 
the consuls. He used to say that the best story-telling 
places in all the world w r ere the consulates. Sea-captains 
rest there, travellers, importers, inland people on their 
way to the sea, the rich, the poor, people in distress, 
adventurers. 

In the consulate, one may hear stories that would have 
saved the head of Queen Scheherazade, the relater of the 
Arabian Nights stories, who would have been executed had 
she failed to have been continually interesting. 

It is our purpose to reproduce in this volume some of the 
stories, such as we may hear in these resting places of the 
travellers of the world. 

We give here a legend of La Guayra, such as has color 
for the consular visitors, and is largely true. 

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE AND HIS SHIP OF GOLD. 

La Guayra, in the days of the sea-rovers, is associated with 
the story of Sir Francis Drake, and the "Golden Hynde," 
the ship of the knightly adventurer. 

Sir Francis was born in a cottage upon the Tavy, in 1539, 
a long-ago date. He lived upon the Tavy in the days of his 



98 OVER THE ANDES. 

knighthood and riches, but he died off La Guayra on the 
placid purple sea. 

His young days were passed among the sailors of Devon, 
and he was apprenticed by his father to a neighbor who 
owned a bark, and so he began a life on the sea. 

The reports of the exploits of Hawkins in the New 
World were filling England. Drake heard of them, and 
was anxious to see the coasts of the discovery and palmy 
isles of the Spanish main. Wishes make ways. He found 
his way to Hawkins, and made a voyage with him, and 
became his successor in the fame of the sea. 

His first voyage to the Spanish main, which was with 
Hawkins, was not successful. He desired wealth ; but he 
came home poorer than when he sailed away. He went to 
the same Spanish main again, and at last enriched himself by 
the capture of a caravan laden with gold at Nombre de Dios. 

Every one knows how he became a favorite of Queen Eliza- 
beth ; how he waged war against the Spanish on the sea, 
and defeated the Invincible Armada. 

He sailed from Plymouth, England, in his early voyages, 
and the return of his ship to that port was a cause of great 
excitement. 

It was a Sunday in Plymouth, in the sixteenth century, far 
off and long ago. We think that it was in summer. 

The little old woman that opened the pews for a penny, 
and for more on holidays, came early to the church, with her 
high bonnet and her keys by her side, as we may imagine. 
The rector put on his white gown. 

"When do you think Sir Francis will come back? " asked 
the little old woman of the rector, with a courtesy. 



CARACAS AND THE LAND OF THE CHOCOLATE PLANT. 99 

" Ah, never mind about such things to-day, Mother. It is 
only gold that does good, that is good — as for the rest, it is 
fools' gold. It is the incorruptible seed that we must sow, 
and the durable riches that we must seek." 

The little old woman courtesied low in the high church, 
taking, we fear, a pinch of snuff. 

The people came into the church under the high tower, 
that the Pilgrim Fathers saw as ^hey sailed away. The 
psalm was sung, and the credo repeated. 

The clerk looked out of the window. 

Suddenly the clerk was gone. 

Where had he gone ? Why ? 

The deacon looked out of the window after him. Suddenly 
he was gone. Where ? Why ? 

The decorous old sea-captains, one by one, looked out. 
One by one they went out. 

Old lady West, the grand woman of the place, craned her 
head, and looked out of the window. She, too, disappeared. 

Then the young folks dared to stand up to see where the 
old folks had gone. They, too, slipped out. 

The rector began to preach, full of wonder at seeing so 
many people going out one by one. 

He at last turned his face toward the window. 

What did he see ? 

A sail! 

It was Sir Francis Drake's. It was coming in from the 
Spanish main. The ship doubtless was loaded with gold. 

" Stop ! stop ! " he cried to the people who were going out. 
" I will go, too ! " 

He slipped off his robe as quickly as possible. 



IOO OVER THE ANDES. 

The little old woman who opened the pews stood alone with 
her keys and snuff-box in the great high church. She bent 
double when she saw the rector going, and said to him as he 
passed her, " It is fools' gold, all ! " 

It was. After his great exploits and battles, Sir Francis 
went to the Spanish main again for gold. He had a fever 
for gold. But another fever met him there, the fever of the 
garment of death. Twenty days he fought with the fever, 
but he was vanquished this time, — a ship of gold on the 
Spanish main could not arrest death. 

He died amid his gold. 

The Spanish main is deep. His ship with his fleet came 
to anchor off Puerto Bello. They lifted the body of Sir 
Francis over the rail of his ship, and gave it to the deep, 
deep sea. 

In England, they watched for the ship's return. It came 
back, it brought gold — but Sir Francis never came back. 

Said the little old woman that opened the pews to the 
nimble clerk, who had fun out of the church on Sunday, " It 
was fools' gold, all." 

Alonzo became greatly interested in the cocoa industry. 

"These are superior products of the chocolate plant," he 
said to a trader whom he met at the consulate. " Why could 
not an American importer take advantage of these, and make 
for himself a reputation that would secure for his raw ma- 
terial superior prices?" 

" He could, if he had capital, knowledge, and experience." 

"A gentleman in Boston manufactured superior chocolate," 
said Alonzo. " His business grew. He made a fortune from 



CARACAS AND THE LAND OF THE CHOCOLATE PLANT. 1 01 

it : others who succeeded him, or worked with him, did the 
same. Why could not a young importer lay a foundation for 
success on the same principle ? " 

" He could." 

" If I had capital, and were to gain experience, why could 
I not make for myself a business by securing the best fruit 
of the chocolate plant for our markets ? " 

" You could," said the trader. 

" If there are plantations that can produce superior beans, 
they can be doubled. The superior product can be in- 
creased ? " 

" Certainly, my lad, and you have just the spirit to enter 
into some business like that. Why are you travelling ? " 

" To find something useful to do." 



CHAPTER IX. 

ARLINE AT THE AMERICAN MINISTER'S THE LANTERN OF 

MARACAIBO — THE STORY OF SIMON BOLIVAR AT THE 
EARTHQUAKE AT CARACAS. 

UNCLE HENRY was acquainted with the United States 
Minister, or the American Minister, as he was called, 
whose place of residence was at Caracas. He called upon 
him and introduced to him and to his family, whom he also 
met, his nephews and Arline. The minister offered Alonzo 
every opportunity to visit the country of the cocoa and coffee 
plantations. 

There were members of the family that at once took a 
more than polite interest in Arline. As soon as they found 
that she was interested in kindergarten education one of 
them said : 

"You should go no farther. We need you right here. 
Why, Dom Pedro of Brazil went to New York at one time 
to find people of ideas like yours. You must leave your 
hotel and stay with us while you are in port." 

Arline accepted the invitation. Uncle Henry was greatly 
surprised at finding his girl making herself so interesting; 
he was still more surprised to hear her speak American 
Spanish very well. 

Arline was delighted with this hospitality. She was in a 



ARLINE AT THE AMERICAN MINISTER'S. IC«3 

sympathetic atmosphere ; here — away off here in the earth- 
quake valley — were people who shared her heart and 
thoughts. 

The evenings at the Legation were continuous delights. 
Here she listened to stories different from those that she had 
ever heard before, and poems and music unlike those of 
New England. 

One evening a Spanish Don, who spoke English, gave her 
a somewhat curious account of 



THE LANTERN OF MARACAIBO. 

When the Spanish discoverers came to the entrance of 
Lake Maracaibo, they beheld a scene that filled them with 
wonder, — villages seemed to be floating upon an open sea. 
They entered this new water land, and came to the houses of 
the water dwellers. They found that these dwellings were 
built upon piles driven into the mud. 

" Venezuela," said they, "a little Venice," and the country 
of this strange lake received Venezuela as its name. The 
people have been driven into this life by the mosquitoes. 

From the time of Columbus until now, Maracaibo has had 
the reputation of being a haunted region, on account of a 
peculiar light that appears above it at night, and which is 
called " Farol de Maracaibo" — the lantern of Maracaibo. 
It is a natural beacon which appears at midnight over the 
lake on the south. Nowhere else in the world does nature 
provide a mysterious light-house, and light in it a mysterious 
lamp. 

The light-house in this case may be but a wall of mist, and 



104 OVER THE ANDES. 

the light some form of phosphorescence : we cannot tell. The 
region where it appears is very hot, and the air is supposed 
to be charged with electricity, but if this is so, no explosions 
ever take place. It is a natural wonder, whose origin is 
certain to be some day explained; but to the ignorant it has 
long been and is long likely to be regarded as a supernat- 
ural appearance, such as gives rise to legends, stories, and 
poems, as in the case of the Will-o'-the-wisp and St. Elmo's 
fire. 

A region where the people live in trees over the water, 
to baffle the invasions of the mosquitoes, and where a natural 
light-house nightly appears in the hot, misty, electric air, is 
surely one of the most curious in all the world. 

The same gentleman related another story in a very fervid 
way, after the manner of the South. 

THE STORY OF SIMON BOLIVAR AT THE EARTHQUAKE AT 

CARACAS. 

It was Holy Week in 1812. The churches were veiled in 
mourning, but were preparing for the Easter joy. The valley 
of Caracas is a bed of flowers during much of the year ; the 
mountains are green with cacti, and lately the Calvary Hill 
has been made a flower garden, presenting the circles of the 
semi-tropical flowers of the plains and mountains of the 
maritime Andes to the circuit of the sun. 

The city stood in a valley at the elevation of some three 
thousand feet. Below the valley rolls the purple sea, and 
above the valley, a sky garden of paradise, the Andes loom 
thousands of feet in the clear blue sky. 



ARLINE AT THE AMERICAN MINISTER'S. 105 

It was the time of the war for Independence, and 
Simon Bolivar, the leader of the patriotic army, was in 
the city. 

One day there had come to Bolivar a statesman who had 
said to him : — 

"If any calamity should fall upon the country now, — as 
a plague, earthquake, or accident, — it would endanger the 
cause. The people would attribute it to a judgment of Heaven 
for proclaiming the Independence." 

"The people are superstitious," said Bolivar, "and let us 
hope that nothing may happen till the republic is established." 

" Simon Bolivar, there comes to me a strange foreshadow- 
ing. There is a dimness in the light of heaven, a strange 
and awful stillness in the air, and often at night I can feel 
the earth tremble under my house. Others have felt the 
same." 

" Such things have happened before," said Bolivar. 
" Caracas once went down, and since that time she sleeps 
on a grave. Here flowed a tranquil lake, or so the legends 
say : that lake went down. There may be cause for fear." 

" Thou speakest true, Bolivar, and there comes again 
electric air, and quivering waves of light, and a strange 
dimness turning red the sun." 

"Let the earth rise or sink, my cause is just, and justice 
never fails." 

It was a lovely day. The orchid hunter from the mountain 
woods came laden with a wealth of spiral blooms to deck 
the festal altars ; the cacti hung in the balconies of penitents, 
as waiting for the Easter light to bloom ; the solemn morn 
had passed; the hour drew nigh that celebrates the world's 



106 OVER THE ANDES. 

supreme event, when the Cross threw its shadow on the sun. 
The churches were thronged, and heads to feet were bowed, 
and through the silence stole melting music. 

The sultry air grew more lifeless, and ceased to breathe ; 
the red sun shone, but nature seemed as dead. The sea- 
birds wheeled and screamed on faltering wings. The land- 
birds hid their wings amid drooping leafages of windless 
trees. The nightingale ceased his song ; the wild beasts 
lifted up a cry of fear in silent forests and crept near the 
town. The stillness grew as though all things were wait- 
ing. So there comes the hush that falls at an hour of 
execution, as if the clock of time had stopped. In the tepid 
air the sails hung loose upon the pulseless sea, whose wide 
splendors were spread beneath the green heights. The 
condors plunged in air, as smitten with terror ; the birds 
and beasts seemed to know the secret that Nature held 
within her heart. 

A force is gathering weight beneath the land, — silent, elec- 
tric, irresistible. The Andes rise clear as peaks at sea, when 
storms have cleared the air, and at their feet more mirror- 
like and still lies the sea. 

Breathe low, O priests ! in all your shadowy temples. 
Did something smite the earth ? Look up, ye crowds ! Did 
not the pillars move ? A power unseen seems drawing near, 
and passing by. But how, and where ? Oh, where ? Go 
ask the birds, but they have ceased to fly ; go ask the 
beasts, but they have ceased to run. The startled bull no 
longer paws the turf. 

Portenos, did the higher Andes wave ? Serenos, did ye 
see the city move ? 



ARLINE AT THE AMERICAN MINISTER'S. 107 

But all again is still. The Miserere flowed in sweet relief 
along the stifling aisles, and the worshippers prayed and 
shuddered as they moved their beads. 

There came a crash, and rent the earth. Ye powers that 
pity men, 'tis now your hour ; the earth is going down, 
and hangs the sky above as though suspended o'er a black 
abyss ! A cloudless darkness fills the moving air, the moun- 
tains reel, and, rent in spasms, seem to cry as in a voice of 
thunder to the sky. The sea pours its tides upon the land, 
as though affrighted. The eagles upward dart and leave the 
earth ; the huge peaks break, the waterfall is rent, lakes dis- 
appear, the valley opens its mouth, and downward draws the 
shuddering air. A cavernous thunder again shakes the earth ; 
the mountains echo it near and far; the craters of volcanoes, 
black and old, in near provinces, poured forth streams of lava 
down their rocky walls. 

Where art thou now, Caracas, far city of the mountains and 
the sea, where liberty for a new race was born ? And where 
thy villages 'mid pastoral farms ? And where the worshippers, 
who an hour ago lay on thy floor before the mourning gold 
that gleamed out through altar lights, — mysterious, vague, 
and dim ? Go ask the caverns of the hidden earth that never 
shall be explored. 

One village sunk, and left not an inhabitant. The fane, 
the churchyard of the cross, the convent walls, the happy and 
the wretched, rich and poor, — all, all, vanished as a mirage. 
The tropic sunset spread its splendors o'er the seas, but to 
Caracas but a single church is left, and that on tottering 
pillars leaned above the wreck, and waited there to tell other 
men of other times the tale. 



I08 OVER THE ANDES. 

And where was Bolivar? There went up a cry, "Liberta- 
dor ! L ibertador ! ' ' 

The earth went down, but left him on a height. He stood 
alone above the ruin. The cloud volcanic rose around him 
and swift rolled away. He saw the single church that roofed 
the air, and heard the pitying cries for helping hands that 
came from the walls, " Libertadov /" 

He leaped over the ruins, rushed to the colonnade of the 
church, and there began his work of mercy. 

"Libertadov ! " 

Whose voice is that ? He lifted his face to see. It was 
the warning patriot who stood before him. 

"This is not the place for talk," he said; " I told you so. 
I saw the ruin coming ; it has come. One question only, 
champion, answer me : Is the cause lost ? " 

Bolivar, small and slender that he was, rose into a form of 
majesty. 

"Compatriot, No! The earth may reel, but not the throne 
of justice in the world. If Nature's self oppose, I say to thee, 
Hear me, ye ruins; if Nature's self opposes us, we will force 
her to obey." 

The story which here was told in picture is founded on a 
true incident. 

The guitar was often played evenings in the bowers of 
blooms under the bright stars and the Southern Cross. 
Some of the Venezuelan songs, thus accompanied, have a 
peculiar form and charm ; like the following : — 



ARLINE AT THE AMERICAN MINISTER S. ICX) 



Seest thou yon lowly, silent tomb, 
Where flowers bloom and children play? 
I see — 

But ah ! I have my hope 
Not there, but far, far, far away, 
Far, far away ! 



Seest thou yon cloud of azure hue, 

On heaven's fair bosom sport and play? 

I see — 

But ah! I have my hope 
Not there, but far, far, far away, 
Far, far away! 



ill. 

Seest thou yon dome of azure sky, 
Where sparkle stars of silver rays ? 
I see — 

But ah ! I have my hope 
Not there, but far, far, far away, 
Far, far away ! 



IV. 



Nor tomb, nor cloud, nor stars of light, 
My soul in quest divine can stay ; 
For while God lives I have my hope, 
Not here, but far, far, far away, 
Far, far away ! 



CHAPTER X. 

PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS — THE VICTORIA REGIA 
— THE RUBBER GROVES — A CONSULAR TALE. 

UP the curving harbor of the seaport of the Amazons Our 
Boys passed, and faced Para. It is a city of white 
houses with red tiles, and it was picturesque in the distance, 
and grew more and more interesting in a nearer approach. 

"First class in geography, stand up," said Uncle Henry, 
jocosely, to some passengers and the boys. "Who discovered 
the Amazon ? " 

There were blank faces and close shut mouths. 

" I know who discovered the Mississippi," said one of the 
passengers. 

"And I know who discovered the St. Lawrence," said 
Alonzo. 

"That is all well as far as it goes," said Uncle Henry; 
"but who discovered the Amazon?" 

" I only know that I don't know," said Leigh. " It never 
occurred to me that it ever was discovered before. I always 
thought it was just here without any romance at all." 

"You are one of a very large company of people, I fear." 

" Pinzon," said Arline. " The one of the brothers who was 
true to Columbus." 

Arline was patriotic, and she wore a little American flag. 

no 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. Ill 

She was asked by a girl whom she met on the steamer, 
a daughter of a military officer, what it meant. " I am a 
Daughter of the Revolution." 

" The daughters of North America have been through one 
revolution," said the South American girl, speaking English, 
" and they bedeck themselves with flags and put on airs of 
great importance. The South American women have been 
through many revolutions, — as a joke in a North American 
paper well says, — and have forgotten all about them for the 
new times." 

Arline left her flag in her room the next day, in the kinder- 
garten spirit. 

Para was at hand. 

A palace, a cathedral, and towers of churches, and halls of 
imposing appearance came clearly into view, with the docks 
of great navigation companies. They were at the mart of 
the great india-rubber industry of the world. The groves 
of the Amazon sent down their products through the wide 
gateway of the Para. J 

The river Para is the south arm of the Amazon, and forms 
an outlet of that river to the Atlantic. " It is forty miles broad 
at its mouth and twenty at the port city. The province of 
Para is nearly twice as large as Austria, and embraces, in part, 
the great Amazon Valley, — an almost unpeopled land, but 
capable of becoming one of th^^iost productive countries 
of the world. 

If the Andes are the glory of the mountain world, the 
Amazon is the river of rivers. It starts in the mountain 
torrents of the sky, it flows four thousand miles, and has 
tributaries and water-courses over which one might travel 



112 OVER THE ANDES. 

fifty thousand miles, or a distance equal to twice around 
the world. 

The American steamers go up the river for a thousand 
miles and connect with lighter steamers, making a route of 
three thousand three hundred and sixty miles. 

The Amazon forces itself into the ocean, and is a river of 
the ocean as well as of the land. 

The travels of Professor Agassiz on these water-courses 
of the forest kingdoms have made the waters familiar to 
scientific men. Here the great naturalist discovered one 
thousand new fish. 

Brazil is a country awaiting the occupation of the world. 
It is some twenty-six hundred miles long and twenty-five 
hundred broad, almost as long as from Maine to California. 
The Amazon Valley, wherever cultivated, pours out in luxu- 
riance the products of the earth. 

The South American coast is unhealthy, but the great 
country of Brazil has its life-giving areas. 

The wonders of the Amazon are the caoutchouc forests, 
or india-rubber groves. 

"I can remember," said Uncle Henry at Para, "when 
india-rubber was chiefly used in the form of little blocks to 
erase pencil marks on paper. Every school-boy had a piece 
of india-rubber, or gum elastic ; and my old teacher told me 
that these erasers grew^Rjl trees. The boy who used the 
rubber the most was he^who made the most mistakes at 
school, and usually the most mistakes in life. I found many 
errors to erase, and the habit has too much followed me, 
I fear. 

" But how the business has grown since my school-days ! 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. 113 

First, we began to wear rubber on our feet to keep out 
the water and the snow. Then we wore it on our heads for 
the same purpose. Then we wore it all over us in the 
form of coats, which were as black as funeral palls. Then 
our rubber coats took on the appearance of cloth. Then we 
had rubber bands and belts, and finally combs, chains, 
bracelets, and buttons. There are some three thousand 
articles made wholly or in part of rubber. So a useful 
thing multiplies." 

"What is rubber?" asked Alonzo. 

"It is the juice, or milk, of the caoutchouc-tree. It is 
obtained by tapping the tree, and the juice is solidified by 
boiling down the liquid, when it is moulded, dried, and 
exported. The Para rubber is regarded as the best." 

The ship was long in port, and they visited the ships 
engaged in the rubber trade. Uncle Henry and the two boys 
connected with a steamer from New York, and went up the 
Amazon for a distance of a thousand miles. They sailed, as 
it were, on the melted snows of the Andes. The voyage was 
one of wonder, for it revealed to them the possibilities of the 
great Amazon Valley to the future world. 

They met with a few Indians, happy in an indolent life. 
The forests were alive with birds and animals ; a tropic glow 
was in the sky morning and evening. The boat went on 
and on, the wide waters and the land seemed empty, empty. 

Uncle Henry on this voyage gave the boys a description 
of a marvellous natural stone pyramid between the countries 
of Guiana and Brazil, called Mt. Roraima. It rose per- 
pendicularly to a height of some seven thousand feet. It 
may have had a lake-like surface on top, for water ran over 
1 



H4 OVER THE ANDES. 

its sides, making it a beautiful object in the morning and 
evening light. 

It was difficult to ascend this mountain, which was like a 
square block of granite or slate or solid geological substance. 
They were now in the country of the concolor, which 
was introduced into the greenhouses of the temperate zones 
from the Organ Mountains, near Rio, and whose flower- 
scape suggests a hand of gold. They were led to recall 
again this plant of oval bulbs and flaming shaft by the 
fiery glory that appeared on the Amazon as the boat ap- 
proached the shore. 

Leaves were seen floating upon the surface of the water, 
five or six feet in length. Presently, flowers began to 
appear among them of great size. 

Leigh asked Uncle Henry what these giant aquatic plants 
were. 

" I thought that you knew," said Uncle Henry. " Those 
are famous Victoria regias, the favorite plants of the great 
English aquariums. Let us secure some of the flowers." 

They did so by lines. The flowers were white, with a 

rose flush in the middle, and filled the rooms with fragrance. 

"We must secure some orchids for Arline, when we 

return to Rio," said Leigh, always mindful of his amiable 

cousin. 

They did so, not only securing the concolor from the 
Organ Mountains, but rare specimens of the queen of 
orchids, which blooms all the year. This magnificent and 
opulent flower has many hues and shades of color, and 
no two flowers are exactly alike. In some specimens it is 
the lily flushed with the rose. 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. I 1 5 

"We will carry these to Arline," said Leigh. 

Our Boys found the Amazon rimmed with Victoria lilies. 
At one place they saw Indians harvesting the seeds of these 
wonderful plants, some of whose leaves were nearly as large 
as boats. 

Uncle Henry explained to them that the seeds of the lily 
were edible. 

" The plants are the cornfields of the rivers in some parts 
of the South," he said. "They are water corn; in fact, they 
are in some places called the water maize." 

The india-rubber groves of the Amazon are full of animal 
life. Their tops are the forest cities of birds and beasts. In 
these regions sport the monkeys, and flaunt the gay macaws, 
and scream the parrots in the rising sun. 

The mind wonders at the world in these vast solitudes, 
which seem to form the pleasure and delight of the animal 
kingdom. 

Will these immense territories, fertilized by the snows of 
the Andes, ever be densely peopled ? What could civiliza- 
tion accomplish here? Are the Indian races here destined to 
increase or die ? Is this to be at some future day the resource 
for lumber, as it is now for cabinet woods and dyewoods ? 

It is often said that the world takes but little interest in 
South America. Will not the time come when the necessi- 
ties of the world will compel a greater interest in these pro- 
lific regions of material resources ? What is South America 
but a waiting world ? Waiting for what, in the order of 
Providence ? 

They were told a beautiful tale in the family of an ex-Eng- 
lish consul at Para. 



I l6 OVER THE ANDES. 



THE YOUNG ORCHID HUNTER OF MT. RORAIMA. 

The warm, moist forests of Colombia, Venezuela, and 
the Guianas are the natural gardens of the most beautiful or- 
chids in the world. Here is an orchid land. The air flowers 
here appear in all their fantastic forms and unaccountable 
hues. They haunt, as it were, the trees, as the mistletoe 
gathers on the English oaks. The mistletoe, in its sugges- 
tions, is a Christmas plant : the orchid is an Easter flower. 

All people are familiar with the night-blooming cereus, the 
Queen of the Night. In some places, where it is cultivated 
in homes, its blooming is made the occasion of a flower 
party. It is found in the great solitudes of the South. This 
glory of the floral world is the flower of desolation. Strange 
as it may seem, it blooms in its native haunts amid desola- 
tions in the night. 

To find it thus is to meet a floral parable, and one that 
haunts the mind. The plant resembles genius, which is a 
desert offering. 

Of the wonders of orchid land, only the florist has any con- 
ception. The flowers in the great forests of northern South 
America are like gems, butterflies, birds, and every beautiful 
thing. There is no surprise that their flower-scapes may not 
reveal. 

Many of them not only have fantastic forms, but exquisite 
odors, and such as might make the perfumer's calling a high 
art, were it to develop the ancient Arabian delights. Some 
species of the orchids emit their fragrance only in the morn- 
ing or at night. 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. 117 

They are flowers of mystery. There are some three thou- 
sand known varieties, and of these, six hundred or more rare 
orchids have been discovered in Venezuela. 

They are hunted for. It has become a profession of young 
English, French, and German botanists to hunt for new speci- 
mens of the orchids, in the floral gold mines of the South 
American tropical world. A new orchid may be sold for a 
little fortune to the great greenhouses of England and on 
the continent. 

There was once a young French orchid hunter named 
Pierre de Vert. He had studied botany in Paris, and the 
mystery and charm of the orchids of the maritime Andes 
and the Amazon had led his imagination away to the austral 
world, and his steps followed his fancy. He had heard that in 
the regions of Mt. Roraima — the pyramid mountain — some 
very rare orchids were to be found, and he went to French 
Guiana and began there to make long journeys over Indian 
trails into the vast and unknown forests. 

A very gentle and conscientious young man was the same 
Pierre de Vert. His soul was as white as the flowers he 
sought, and as sensitive as the most delicate epiphytes. 
He had grown up in France amid certain church societies 
that lived simply amid wealth for the development of the 
soul. 

To Pierre the orchid was the Flower of the Soul : to find 
new specimens was to secure new illustrations of the soul. 

One day, in a parish church near Paris, there had been 
brought to the altar the Flower of the Holy Spirit. It was 
Palm Sunday. Pierre had heard the poetic priest say, on 
studying the plant, — 



Il8 OVER THE ANDES. 

" I wish that I had the most beautiful flower in all the 
world." 

"What for, Father?" asked Pierre. 

" For Easter, my boy." 

There was a rich nobleman present who heard the words. 

" I am going," he said, " to offer a reward for the most 
beautiful flower that a florist can furnish our altar for Easter 
Sunday for five years." 

" It would be an orchid," said Pierre. " I love flowers, 
delicate flowers, those not of the earth, but of the sun and 
air. I wish that I might secure the reward." 

"I wish that you might, Pierre." 

" I would become an orchid hunter to do it." 

" Where would you go ? Orchids are to be found in all 
the world." 

" I would go to our old colony in South America. The 
most beautiful of all flowers have been found in the forests 
of those regions." 

" Good, my boy. You have the flower in your soul ; a 
desire for a thing is the thing in spirit. I hope that you may 
gain the reward." 

After the Easter festival, the nobleman met Pierre again. 
He made him an Easter gift. It was a golden charm, in the 
form of a medal, on which was stamped the ancient lilies of 
France. 

" That is worth five hundred francs, my lad. Wear it next 
to your heart, and it will bring you- good luck. You have 
worked in the church many years, without any reward, and 
your life is blameless, and your face is after your life. 
When are you going to hunt for the priceless orchid — the 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. IIO, 

most beautiful flower in all the world — to lay on our Easter 
altar ? " 

" I am going, sir." 

" Where ? " 

" To the forests of the pyramid mountain ! " 

" Mt. Roraima ? " 

" Yes, to the regions where the rarest of all the world's 
flowers have been found." 

"How are you going ? " 

" With the missionaries." 

" But you will need more means. I will provide them, 
and you shall hunt for the flowers for my orchid-house, and 
I will still give you reward, if you shall find the most beauti- 
ful flower of all." 

Pierre sailed away from Rochelle. He landed at Guiana, 
and there studied the ways of making long journeys into the 
far and wonderful forests. 

These journeys were not without danger. The waterways 
were malarious at certain seasons. The forests abounded 
with poisonous plants and insects and dangerous serpents. 

But at a favorable season he set forth, with the gold charm 
of the lilies, that the nobleman had given him, hung around 
his neck and lying concealed under his clothing over his 
heart. 

What a strange land was here, — land of the spices and 
peppers ! What a beautiful land, notwithstanding the gray 
rainy seasons ! What a sorrowful land, notwithstanding the 
plantations, gay with flowers! Here old France sent her 
criminals, and those banished here for eight years were 
never allowed to return. 



120 OVER THE ANDES. 

Pierre travelled away from bright Cayenne, on boat and 
on foot, to the vast regions of the low plains, the highlands, 
the granite mountains, the rivers and cataracts. He passed 
beyond the alluvial lands, the places of the wide savannas 
and the mango-trees, and beyond to the Brazilian borders. 
There were but few Indians in the forests; a few plantations 
of the old-time maroons, or runaway slaves, perhaps from 
Dutch Guiana or Surinam. He watched out in these lonely 
trails for the great boas that looked like limbs on the trees, 
and that would sometimes fall on the great beasts and crush 
them in their coils. 

He was attended by a single servant and guide, whom he 
found at Cayenne, and who had been a maroon. This man 
had travelled over a great extent of the country in seach of 
choice woods for the cabinet-makers in France. Pierre 
simply addressed him as " Frese." 

The old, black wood-gatherer knew much about the hidden 
forest places, where the rare woods were, but he had never 
before taken into account the flowers. 

" Monsieur de Vert," he said one day in their travels, 
" there is an Indian district above the cataracts, where I re- 
member to have seen the Indians bring beautiful flowers to 
their altars on feast days. When does Easter fall ? " 

" It is near, Frese." 

" Let us go there. The Indians have a form of worship, 
but they are jealous, fierce, and savage ; they do not take to 
strangers kindly, I am told, but they would be likely to meet 
me with favor. As I remember, I saw in their little church 
some beautiful orchids. Let us go there." 

They went. They arrived in the village a week or more 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. 121 

before Easter, and they made inquiries in regard to the beau- 
tiful orchids that the black had seen. They were told that 
the flowers could be found among the Indian settlements in 
the region over which the mighty pyramid of Mt. Roraima 
towers. 

They wandered and wandered. One day they came to 
the lodges of some fierce-looking Indians. Their coming 
awakened suspicion. The Indians seized them and bound 
them. The black expostulated in vain. 

On the approach of the evening, after their capture, the 
Indians assembled under some great trees and kindled a fire. 
There was one that seemed to be a kind of chief, and he 
harangued the rest in a tongue which the black could but 
imperfectly understand. He then demanded of the black in 
more simple words, — 

" Why are you here ? " 

" Flowers ; for the golden flowers, that grow on the trees." 

The chief shook his head and pointed to the fire. 

Had this fire been kindled to keep away the swarming in- 
sects or wild beasts, or was it intended for torture ? 

The black endeavored to show the chief for what they 
came. 

" Flowers, the most beautiful flowers ! " 

The chief shook his head. This was not to be believed. 
What were flowers ? What could these wanderers want of 
them ? 

A woman arose and shrieked, and the Indians began to 
whirl and dance. Suddenly the dance stopped and the chief 
seized Pierre. 

He searched him. 



122 OVER THE ANDES. 

He found gold coins in his pockets and he took them away 
exultingly. The black had too scanty clothing to admit of 
search. 

The chief held up the gold coins to the company, and the 
dance was renewed. Then the chief led Pierre towards the 
fire. 

" What brought you here ? " he asked, and these words and 
others the black understood and interpreted. 

" Lilies, — the gold lilies, — the most beautiful flowers in all 
the land." 

" Deceiver," said the chief, " gold lilies die." 

He held up before Pierre one gold coin. 

" All ? " he said. " Is that all ? " 

"All," answered Pierre. 

The chief held up before him another coin. 

" All ? Is that all ? " 

"All." 

He held up another in the same manner. 

"All? Is that all?" 

"All." 

" All ? " 

Pierre pointed upward, and was about to say again " all," 
when he laid his hand on his breast, and felt a hard substance 
there. It was the charm, the gold medal of the Bourbon 
lilies that the benevolent and flower-loving nobleman had 
given him. 

Could he say " all " ? 

He trembled. 

He looked the red chief in the face. 

"All?" asked the latter. 



PARA AND THE MONARCH OF RIVERS. 123 

He turned his eyes upward in the last light of the sunset 
as it lit the great trees with a crimson flash. 

"All?" 

Pierre had never practised deception. His soul was as 
white as the lilies he loved. 

" Say ' all,' " said the black, " or we are lost." 

" All ? " again demanded the chief, fiercely. 

Pierre shook his head, and began to unbutton his tunic. 
He lifted it from him and laid it down at the feet of the 
chief. 

He then unbuttoned a thin vest that enveloped his heart. 

As he did this, all the Indians started up, and gazed at 
him intently. The Indian women, believing him to be a 
wizard, shrieked. 

He opened the vest. Then he drew back his silk shirt and 
revealed the charm. The chief started back. 

" The boy is true," he cried. 

The Indians bowed around him with wonder. 

"He has a white soul," said the chief. "He does not 
deceive." 

" He is good," said a withered Indian, a kind of priest. 
" I can see his heart. It is a temple ; a god is in it. Dance 
the joy dance ! " 

The Indians whirled. The great moon rose over the far 
savannas, and the dance went on. 

The chief did not touch the medal. They made for Pierre 
a couch of leaves and odorous boughs, and bade him lie 
down, and the black sunk down beside him. 

The morning broke fiery and red amid the loud calls of 
the multitudinous birds. 



124 OVER THE ANDES. 

The Indians rose early. They did not rekindle the fire. 

The chief stood forth. 

"Flowers," he said; "to-day shall be a flower hunt. Go 
seek for the most beautiful flowers in all the plains." 

He handed back to Pierre the gold coins. 

" You have a white heart. You come not to deceive. The 
gods have sent you to find the treasures of flowers." 

The Indians disappeared. The chief remained, and Pierre 
and the black spent the day with him. 

Towards night the Indians began to return. Was there 
ever such a scene ? They were covered, as it were, with gar- 
ments of flowers. Each one seemed to hold his own to be 
most beautiful. 

Among these flowers was one that outshone all the others 
in its beauty, lustre, and fragrance. Pierre knew that this 
flower would gain the reward if he could secure the plant 
that bore it, and take it back to France. 

He followed the Indians who had found this flower and 
secured the plant. When he returned to the chief's place of 
residence the Indians wished to worship him. But he left 
them a little cross, and pointed upward and said, " He 
whom you should worship is there." 

The boy returned to France. 

He placed on his home altar on Easter Day the most beauti- 
ful flowers that the people had ever seen. 

Then he returned to the orchid land, not to gather white 
or golden flowers, but to teach the Indians how to live after 
the emblems of their glorious flowers. 




PIERRE KNEW THAT THIS FLOWER WOULD GAIN THE REWARD. 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HARBOR IN ALL THE WORLD — COFFEE 

LORO. 

THE wonderful natural harbors of the world are Liverpool, 
Sydney, Halifax, Portland, and those on the south Eng- 
lish coast ; but the most beautiful harbor is Rio de Janeiro 
(Reo day Zhanaero), commonly called Rio, or Rio Janeiro. 

This harbor of fortressed waterways, mountains, and 
islands Our Boys were now approaching. 

The first view of it was a bold mountain which seemed 
rising from the sea. Then the heads of other mountains 
appeared ; then the green land ; then islands and circling 
waters ; then the picturesque city of the serried armies of 
palms. 

Rio, the commercial emporium of Brazil, is situated on 
the land-locked waters of the province of Rio. Here is the 
region of the Organ Mountains, the wide lagoons, and the 
river Parahiba. 

The deep harbor of Rio is some seventeen miles long. 
It is dotted with islands, one of which is six miles in 
length. 

The steamer approached the majestic mountain walls of 
the harbor, at the head of which stands Sugar Loaf Moun- 
tain, whose name describes it. Rising over the blue waters 
of the bay, it holds the eye in a strange way : it never 

125 



126 OVER THE ANDES. 

allows it to rest. Lofty granite hills on the sides of the 
calm waters look like the walls of giants. 

The shores are among the earthly paradises : one feels 
that a grand and picturesque city must be near to meet 
the demands of Nature in her beauty. 

" The harbor is so safe that no pilot is needed," said Uncle 
Henry, as the steamer passed the natural water gates. 

But what was the astonishment of all on board to find 
in this deep, safe harbor of Rio a great English steamer 
wrecked upon a rock. She was being unloaded by lighters. 

" How did it happen ? " asked every one. 

It happened in this way. The captain was a man of long 
experience, and was about retiring from the service with 
honor. It was in the evening of a serene day. The harbor 
was so safe, the weather so beautiful, that he accepted the 
invitation of his friends on board to share their hospitalities. 
It was, as it were, the supreme hour of his long and perilled 
life. He had guided many ships for many years into safe 
harbors ; why should he not share the merrymaking of his 
friends in this calm harbor of Rio ? 

In the festive hour he was thrown off his guard, and 
issued a wrong order, which the man at the wheel obeyed. 
He only spoke one word wrong, — only one, in a clear, calm 
harbor, after a life of honor. 

There came a shock. In the midst of clear, free water, 
the steamer had gone upon a rock. The captain had only 
issued one wrong order, in one of the safest harbors in all 
the world. 

The ship was a ruin, and the captain's good reputation 
was gone after all his years of faithful service. 



THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HARBOR IN THE WORLD. \2J 

Rome had seven hills, and seven hills has Rio : hills of 
the palm-trees, sunny hills that nature loves. 

The city consists of an old town and a new. It is full of 
white-walled houses with red-tiled roofs, and from the harbor 
and hills is alike delightful. It is famous for its long avenues 
of palm-trees, which look like giants on a march. 

The park of Santo de Santa Anna, the place of the govern- 
ment palace and offices, corresponds in beauty with the noble 
scenery of the harbor and the seven hills. 

Rio is the great coffee port. The value of the coffee 
exports from Brazil in a single year must be ten million 
dollars or more. Brazil and the islands of the Spanish 
main produce one hundred and sixty thousand tons of 
coffee, — more than half the coffee product of the world. 
Of this, the United States consumes nearly a hundred 
thousand tons. 

Alonzo studied the coffee market. He went into the 
country and visited some of the great plantations. At the 
consulate, his inquiry was how a young man, by securing 
superior grains, could take advantage of the coffee trade. 

There was a young American girl on board the ship who 
was sick. She was evidently in consumption, and was going 
to a plantation on the Parana, where she had relatives. She 
had not been benefited by the voyage. In fact, she was sink- 
ing. Her name was Helen May. 

Arline's heart went out to her. When the steamer stopped 
at Rio, Arline would not leave the invalid, but remained on 
board with her. 

"Are you not going on shore to see the avenues of 
palms ? " asked her uncle. 



128 OVER THE ANDES. 

" No, Uncle, my duty is here, and I do not care to go 
unless Helen can go with me." 

"The ship is to remain in port several days," said Leigh 
to her. 

" Well, you buy me something on shore, something beauti- 
ful, that will please Helen. I am content to remain here, as 
long as I can make her more comfortable. I would like to 
see some of the kindergarten schools, if such there be now, 
that were started by Dom Pedro. The emperor had the right 
views of education, and he brought here a number of kinder- 
garten teachers from New York. I would like to see the 
results of their work. But my place is where my duty is, 
and my home now is here." 

THE STORY OF LORO, THE PARROT. 

The Frobishers met with a beautiful blue front parrot in a 
street market in Rio. 

"That is the very bird that I would like to take to Arline," 
said Leigh. 

The market was an open one. It simply consisted 
of many parrots, with some ungainly macaws. The latter 
had very brilliant plumage, but fierce beaks and evil 
eyes. 

Leigh looked at the beautiful blue front parrot. It was in 
excellent condition. The yellow about its head was a deep 
color, very rich and full. 

" Loro," said Alonzo, "little Loro, poor little Loro." 

"No qtiero" said the bird. 

But although the parrot " did not wish," she put out her 



THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HARBOR IN THE WORLD. 1 29 

claw, as if to " shake hands," like the Loro of Milton Hills. 
Alonzo took the bird's foot. 

" Be careful, or she will bite you," said Leigh. 

Although Rio is a Portuguese city, the open street bird- 
store, which was only a few wooden frames on a market 
corner, was attended by a Spanish woman, old and withered. 
She had keen black eyes, and watched the boys intently. 

" Cuanto, Sclwra f" asked Alonzo. (How much?) " Yo 
soy Americano — no yo Jiablo Portuguese." (I am an Ameri- 
can — I do not speak Portuguese.) 

"Un peso" said the withered old woman in Spanish. (One 
dollar.) 

The boys lingered. The old woman, to make the beautiful 
bird seem more attractive, said, — - 

"Saca la pata." (Put out your paw.) 

This sounded familiar. 

The bird obeyed, and the old woman shook it long and 
affectionately, which recalled home scenes. 

The parrot turned his head wisely, and stood still looking 
down. The boys could see no object to attract its attention. 

"What is the matter, Loro ? " said Alonzo. 

Leigh repeated the question, — " What is the matter, 
Loro ? " 

<l No hablo Americano" said the old woman, meaning that 
the bird did not speak English. 

Suddenly the bird lifted his wings — how beautiful they 
were in their gold and green ! — and gave a joyous scream. 

" What is the matter, Loro ? " said both of the boys. 

" Cuanto costa ustcdf" asked Alonzo. (What cost ?) 

"No quero" said the bird. 



130 OVER THE ANDES. 

The bird went again through the same curious and inex- 
plicable motions. She fixed her head so that she looked like 
a stuffed bird, then lifted her wings and screamed joyously. 

"What is the matter ? " said Alonzo. 

" What is the matter ? " said Leigh. 

The boys were attracted to an enormous scarlet macaw. 

"Aracanga" said the old Spanish woman. 

Below the wooden frames, on which were the parrots, were 
some beautiful marmosets, with reddish-yellow fur, long tails, 
black heads, with white beard. 

The parrot was turning her head to the side again. The 
boys waited to hear her scream as before. But to their sur- 
prise, and the astonishment of the old Spanish woman, 
the bird did not scream, but uttered in a loud voice the 
words, — 

" What is the matter ? " The Spanish woman lifted her 
hands and said, "Maravilla! " 

" I must purchase that bird for Arline," said Leigh. 

" That is what she was thinking of," he added, meaning 
that the bird had assumed a fixed attitude to think how to 
say, " What is the matter?" 

Uncle Frobisher had been looking into the cathedral, 
where imposing ceremonies were in progress, and he now 
came up to the place, and stopped before the parrot's stand. 

" I am going to buy that parrot for Arline," said Leigh. 
" I promised her that I would bring back for her the most 
beautiful thing in all Rio." 

11 1 would not do that," said Uncle Frobisher. "You have 
not begun to see parrots yet. South America is full of 
them. They fly in clouds'in some places, like those Columbus 



THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HARBOR IN THE WORLD. 131 

saw at sea. Besides, she would not wish to take the parrot 
over the Andes on a mule. Let us go to the menagerie 
through one of the avenues of palms, then go on to the great 
Avenue of Palms and Botanical Gardens." 

The boys left the place reluctantly, and much to the disap- 
pointment of the old Spanish woman, because they did not 
buy the bird who had spoken English so miraculously. 

The glory of the lofty colonnades of palms did not efface 
the bright bird from Leigh's mind. He wanted that bird for 
Arline. 

On their return, our travellers passed the same place. 
What was their astonishment to hear the same parrot cry out, 
in clear, ringing English, — 

" What is the matter ? what is the matter ? " 

" I must have that bird," said Leigh. 

" But how would you carry it ? " asked Uncle Henry, 

" On my arm." 

"It might bite you, or fly away, and what a bother it 
would be on shipboard ; you could not take it over the 
Andes. Buy a parrot at Panama on your return ; all kinds 
are to be found there." 

" Well, Uncle, let me take it along with me a part of the 
way. If we cannot get along with it, I will give it to some 
parrot dealer in another city." 

" Do as you like," said Uncle Henry. " If the bird will be 
any company for you, or please Arline, buy her. You will 
soon tire of such a care as that. But you can give her away. 
She is a beauty." 

" It would so please Arline to know that we bought the 
bird for her — she would like to tell Helen about it." 



I32 OVER THE ANDES. 

" I don't think that Arline and the bird will ever be likely 
to become friends," said Uncle Henry. "The bird would 
require too much attention. She is not studying Spanish, 
like Arline." 

"Cuanto costa?" said Leigh to the old Spanish woman. 
(What price ?) 

"Two pesos," said she. " Habla Ingles." (She speaks 
English.) 

The bird had doubled in value in an hour. 

Leigh paid for the bird in gold and received Spanish pesos 
in change. This was acceptable, for he would soon be again 
in Spanish countries. The old woman was probably from 
the North or South. 

"Saca la pata" said Leigh to the bird, putting out his 
hand. Loro put out her paw, and walked up to his shoulder 
on his arm. He so carried her away. 

"Vaya listed con Deos " (Go your way with God), said the 
old woman. 

As they were turning a corner towards the sea, the bird 
looked back and screamed "Adios ! " (good-bye) to her late 
mistress. The woman called "Adios" after Loro, and the 
two never saw each other again. 

Loro showed no disposition to bite or to be disagreeable in 
any way. Her only wish seemed to be to eat. 

" Parrots eat forever," said Uncle Henry. 

So Loro was brought on board the steamer, and placed 
for a perch on a wooden chair in Arline's state-room, by 
the open door. 

She became the queen of this part of the ship. Having 
little to divert them on the calm sea, the passengers spent 



THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HARBOR IN THE WORLD. 1 33 

much of their time in visiting and feeding Loro. The bird 
littered some fifty words in Spanish, and her accomplish- 
ments were a constant surprise to her visitors. 

Arline was delighted to receive the beautiful bird, but she 
was more interested in her Spanish Grammar. 

" Leigh," she said one day, " I am going to give Loro to 
Helen. The bird likes Helen, and Helen has fallen in love 
-with her." 

" Do as you like, Arline. I bought the bird to make you 
happy." 

" It will make me happy to give her to Helen, or to have 
you do it. Take her to Helen's room, and tell Helen that 
we wish to give it to her." 

Leigh obeyed. The present lighted the sick girl's face 
with joy. One of the first exclamations of the bird on enter- 
ing the room was, — 

" What is the matter, Loro ? " 



CHAPTER XII. 

"WHAT IS THE MATTER, LORO ? " — THE DEEP SEA — BEAU- 
TIFUL BUENOS AYRES. 

THE ship moved out of the enchanting harbor into the 
wide, lonely sea, on its solitary way to Ensenada, the 
ocean port of Buenos Ayres. 

The land faded, the hills sunk, and the sea became a long, 
wide placidity without a coast. 

Helen grew worse. One day the doctor came out of her 
room, and said to Uncle Henry : " The girl's case is alarming. 
It is touching to see the affection that that little Brazilian 
parrot has for her. It sits on her pillow, and hugs her cheek. 
The sight brings tears to my eyes. The girl is sinking — her 
life may not last two days." 

Uncle Henry went to Helen's room, where he found Arline. 
It was as the doctor had said : Loro sat on the pillow, as 
though she were a watcher. 

Helen in her loneliness had treated the bird so affection- 
ately, and with such constant attention, as to have entirely 
won its heart. 

The next morning, the doctor came out of Helen's room 
with a white face. 

He called to Captain Henry, who came to him. 

" I have found her dead." 

134 



"what is the matter, loro?" 135 

" Helen — Miss May ? " 

" Yes ; it was to have been expected. Come and see. 
Call Arline." 

Arline and Leigh joined them, and were told the unhappy 
news. 

They all went to the room. There Helen lay dead, with 
Loro on her pillow. 

Loro spread out her wings as in bewilderment as the door 
opened. 

"What is the matter, Loro ? " she said, with drooping head. 
" What is the matter ? What is the matter ? " 

"You poor bird," said the doctor. "No man can answer 
that question." 

"You darling bird," said Arline, with tears in her eyes. 
" You have been faithful. I will never give you up as long 
as I live. Oh Helen ! Helen ! I, too, would know all this 
mystery of life and death. What is the matter? " 

"Take away the bird," said the doctor. 

Arline took the bird, and left the state-room, weeping ; as 
she went to her room, the bird struggled and cried, " What 
is the matter ? " 

That night the bell rung at twelve o'clock. The steamer 
stopped. Arline lit her lamp. She listened. She heard a 
voice say, "The sea shall give up the dead." 

There was a fall into the water. 

The parrot started. 

" What is the matter, Loro ? " 

The ship moved on. Arline buried her face in the pillows. 
" What is the matter, Loro ? " was to her a question of life. 

From that hour she took the little bird to her heart as a 



I36 OVER THE ANDES. 

loving memoir. She never heard her ask the question, 

"What is the matter, Loro ? " that it did not recall Helen, 

and have a mystic meaning. 

Leigh heard his uncle repeating the next morning on 

deck, — 

" Un viaje por im mar de tempestades 
Es la vida mortal. La tumba es puerto. 
Morir es regresar a mustra patria. 
No se debe llorar por los que han muerto." l 

He took Uncle Henry by the arm, and they walked the 
deck together as the sun was rising. The wide sea rolled 
around them in serene splendor, and both felt the import 
of what had passed the day before. 

" Hasta siempre" (Until forever), said Uncle Henry, over 
and over again. 

The two walked the deck for a time, until the crimson 
in the sky had faded, and the fiery disc of the sun stood 
over the sea. 

The people of the Southern countries are very fond of 
pet animals and birds, and they carry these about with them. 
The affection that they pay to them is a very beautiful feat- 
ure of Southern life in the meridional world. There were 
several Brazilians on board who had with them marmosets. 
These wise, loving, beautiful little monkeys, not a foot long, 
seemed to be the kittens of the Brazilians. Leigh began to 
study their habits as soon as they were brought on board. 

1 " A voyage through a sea of tempests 
Is mortal life. The tomb is the port. 
To die is to return to our fatherland. 
We ought not to mourn for those who have died." 

— Manuel Flores. 



"WHAT IS THE MATTER, LORO ? " 1 37 

He found that, like the human species, they gave their 
affection to those who gave them attention. 

" Leigh," said Uncle Henry, " you are fond of natural 
history. Alonzo has the genius of business. I can see that 
daily. Arline has caught the Peabody-Horace-Mann spirit. 
She is filled with the thought of benevolent education, or 
soul education, after the Froebel plan, as she used to be 
taught by fine old Elizabeth Peabody, who took the greatest 
interest in kindergarten education and in South American 
education and progress of any woman that I have ever 
known in America. You have a love of history, poetry, and 
natural history. Alonzo will become a business man. 
Arline somewhere will be a kind of missionary teacher ; but 
I am not as sure as to how you will place yourself in life. 
My boy, I am studying you." 

Leigh felt the force of what his uncle had said, and asked, — 

"Why could I not obtain a place to teach English in some 
South American city ? " 

" You are too young and inexperienced. But your ques- 
tion is a revelation to me. There is a very fine English 
college in Santiago. Balmaceda, I think, once sent his 
daughters there and used to visit it." 

"Who was Balmaceda?" asked Leigh. "I only know 
that he was overthrown, and that his cause made trouble 
at the American consulate." 

" He was a man of many good ideas, but was too ambi- 
tious. He was an advocate of universal education. I will 
speak of his history at some other time." 

" Could I not get a place to teach in the English college 
at Santiago ? " 



I38 OVER THE ANDES. 

" I do not know. I would not have you do that ; but 
I would like to put you into that school as a pupil, to study 
Spanish language and literature." 

He added : "The lack of interest in Spanish language and 
literature is a defect in our system of education. The Ger- 
man student goes to South America, and is successful in 
business there, because he understands the language of the 
country and the commercial laws. We need in our country 
schools like one in Geneva, Switzerland, where are espe- 
cially taught commercial languages and international law." 

A vision arose in the mind of Leigh. He would become 
a student of South American history, poetry, and natural 
history. He saw that if he did this, he could find a place in 
the new education in the world. 

" Uncle, you said that I took an interest in history, poetry, 
and natural history. I do. Also in botany. Ought I not to 
find a place in life as a teacher of these subjects ? " 

" I think so, after a special education." 

" What can you give me to read to help me in this view 
of life ? " 

" The issues of the Bureau of the Pan-American Repub- 
lics. I will do so." 

There was an odd animal on board. He was chained up 
near the wheel-house. He became very restless. 

" What is that animal ? " asked Leigh. 

" A little ant-eater," said Uncle Henry. 

"And why is he kept here? He is chained to a part of 
the boat : he belongs to the boat." 

"The steamer is an old one. He belongs to it. He is kept 
on board to free the boat from roaches, I am told." 



"what is the matter, loro ? '' 139 

There was a sudden excitement on board. The passengers 
were hurrying to the front upon the decks. The crew were 
looking into the bright distance that was as sunny as the sea, 
but of another color. 

"Land!" said Uncle Henry. "Monte video." (I see a 
mountain.) 

A green hill arose, then a beautiful city, and both disap- 
peared. 

"We are coming to deep water now," said Uncle Henry. 
"The greatest known depth of the sea is somewhere between 
the island of Tristan d'Acunha and the mouth of the Rio de 
la Plata ! it is more than forty thousand feet." 

They entered the Rio de la Plata. The next morning they 
found themselves approaching Ensenada, a name associated 
with the enterprises of William Wheelwright, the Newbury- 
port boy. 

The pampas lay before them, and the ships seemed steam- 
ing into the land, so long and level was the deep canal. 

They landed. Here in reality was the beginning of the 
Transandine railroad. 

They took the cars for Buenos Ayres, and in an hour or 
more the beautiful city rose into view. 

Uncle Henry liked to repeat thoughts in the language of 
the new land, to help his young friends in their studies, and 
on seeing Buenos Ayres in the distance, he said : — 

A LA PATRIA. 

Republica Argentina, Patria amada ! 
Tu explendida corona, matizada 
De gayas flores las naciones ven : 



140 OVER THE ANDES. 

La cariilosa mano de tus bardos 
Puso rosas, jazmines, violas, nardos, 
Entre los verdes lauros de tu sien. 

Yo no vengo a mezclar con esas flores, 
De olimpicos perfumes y colores, 
Las silvestres y humildes que aqui ves, 
Vengo, Patria gloriosa, solamente, 
A doblar la rodilla reverente, 
Y a deshojar las mias a tus pies. 

— Estanislao del Campo. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 

" f\UE sont Buenos Ay res csos ! " exclaimed the old Spanish 
^ adventurer, as he landed on the shores of the Rio de 
la Plata. "What good airs are here!" The "good airs," 
Buenos Ayres, gave the name to the place. They have 
never left it. The purple empire that England lost has ever 
had the charm of good airs flowing from the purple seas 
under skies of resplendent purple : the throne purple of the 
sun and stars. 

Sarmiento, the great Argentine President, said that Buenos 
Ayres would one day become the largest city in either 
America. He saw her in his imagination as a great export 
city for the markets of Europe. Buenos Ayres may not, and 
probably will not, become the largest city in the three Ameri- 
cas, but she is already one of the most beautiful. Her popu- 
lation is already nearly seven hundred thousand souls : the 
end of the century will be likely to find it nearly a million, 
and she will doubtless face the rising sun of prosperity in 
the century to come. 

One passes a city of ships as he enters the city by rail 
from Ensenada : noble steamers from many lands, but princi- 
pally from England, Germany, and northern Europe. 

"Why do I not see the Stars and Stripes here?" asked 

Alonzo. 

141 



142 OVER THE ANDES. 

Why? 

There was a long silence. 

There were long lines of English flags. 

There were many German flags. 

"The Stars and Stripes will be found here some day," 
said Uncle Henry at last. " North and South America have 
not yet got acquainted with each other. Buenos Ayres is 
like a European city." 

The city seen from a little distance is a bright glory of 
towers, spires, and picturesque architecture. The domes of 
the many churches are well placed for atmospheric effects. 
The city of the pampas seems like a Dore picture. It is 
perfectly beautiful. 

It is Paris, it is Rome, it is Granada, in suggestion. The 
people are European. They have the easy, old-time cour- 
tesy and bright, happy faces. . Argentines, with gay ponchos 
(shawls worn over the head), line the long, shadowy arcades. 

One of the first objects to arrest their feet was a statue of 
Mazzini. 

At the sight of this statue among glowing gardens of 
flowers, and amid the shadows of cool trees waving in the 
refreshing winds of the Plata, Leigh stood still, and took his 
uncle by the sleeve. He presently said, — 

" Mazzini, why are you here ? " 

Mazzini did not answer. Uncle Henry did. 

" He was the man of liberty, equality, humanity, and unity ; 
the man of ' God and humanity,' he was called, a man of the 
fixity of purpose that made events." 

" But he was born at Genoa and died at Pisa," said Leigh. 
" Why is his statue in Buenos Ayres ? " 



BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 1 43 

" Look around you as you go on, and you will see. A 
very large part of the population here is Italian, and it is 
patriotic. The Argentine Republic is like a new Italy under 
the Andes, as you have heard me say." 

"It is a city of parrots," said Leigh, as they walked on 
under great arcades, and passed numerous birds. 

"A person finds everywhere what he is looking for," said 
Uncle Henry. " You see statues and parrots. But where is 
Alonzo ? There he is now in a coffee-store." 

Arline had stopped at a street book-store. 

" Make your purchases in Spanish," said Uncle Henry. 

Arline began to speak of " uno libro " when the book- 
seller said, — 

"Habla listed in Ingles siempre." (Speak English always.) 

She did, while in the arcade. 

Uncle Henry secured rooms in the Hotel Universalle. 
The apartments of the hotel enclosed a long patio. It 
was his plan to place Arline in the family of one of his 
friends. 

Our travellers were weary, and prepared to rest. 

" Where shall we go first in the morning ? " asked Alonzo 
of Uncle Henry. 

"Where shall it be, Leigh?" asked Uncle Henry. "Did 
I not once hear you mention the place that you would wish 
to visit first in Buenos Ayres ? " 

"The tomb of San Martin," said Leigh. 

"You will not have far to go," said Uncle Henry. "It 
forms a part of the cathedral, near at hand, at the head of 
the street, on the plaza." 

Leigh rose early in the morning and awoke the others- 



144 OVER THE ANDES. 

"I am going," he said, "to the tomb of San Martin" 
(San Marteen'). 

" Before breakfast ? " asked Uncle Henry. 

" Yes, I can find it ; the cathedral will be open at this 
hour." 

"Wait, Leigh," said Arline, " I am going with you." 

" I will come later," said Uncle Henry. " It is not often 
that two young people are more eager to receive a history 
lesson than to eat their breakfast." 

" But," said Leigh, " the tomb of the greatest of the Creoles 
is no common place." 

Leigh, by his brief account of this hero of the liberation 
that he had given at Milton Hills, had greatly interested 
Arline in this patriotic shrine. 

They went out together. The long, narrow streets, so 
crowded later in the day, were almost vacant. They came 
to the plaza, looked out on the surging waters of the Rio de 
la Plata, over which the arch of light that announced the sun 
was rising, and then turned back and entered the cathedral 
by a side door. 

How grand the cathedral was ! What a shadowy, golden 
splendor! Dark forms were there, kneeling in the silence 
before dimly lighted altars. In some near room was the 
music of an orison. 

In a rotunda, opening out of the cathedral, was the tomb, — 
a marble room, encircled with grand inscriptions, in the 
middle of which a monumental pile bore up the coffin amid 
insignia of glory. 

Leigh and Arline sat down in the mausoleum in silence, 
and read the records of one of the noblest men of modern 



BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 145 

times. They passed an hour there, scarcely speaking a word. 
They heard many steps outside, and the rolling of traffic in 
the streets, and they knew that the city was awake. 

We have given in a dialogue some facts in regard to the 
remarkable history of San Martin. We feel sure that our 
readers will like to learn more of his history. In Venezuela, 
the name of Bolivar is ever present : in Argentina, a like 
place has the name of San Martin. 

THE STORY OF SAN MARTIN, THE LIBERATOR OF ARGENTINA, 
CHILI, AND PERU. 

San Martin stands in the first rank of the world's heroes. 
He could draw the sword for humanity, and could sheathe 
it again, when the cause of liberty demanded the sacrifice. 
He refused wealth and honors, and for the advancement of 
others he was willing to go into self-exile, to live poorly, 
and die poor. 

His motto in life is worthy of a place in every note-book. 

" Seras lo qtie debes ser, 
Y sino, no seras nada." 

" Thou must be that which thou oughtest to be, or else thou 
shalt be nothing." " He was not a man," said a student of 
South American history, "he was a mission." Cincinnatus 
returned to the plough ; Washington to his Mt. Vernon 
estate ; but San Martin to tranquillize his country went into 
exile. He said in spirit, "Why should I stand in the way 
of any one who can serve the cause better than myself ? " 
He was a Creole ; he has been called the greatest of 
Creoles ; he was the Washington among Creoles. 

L 



I46 OVER THE ANDES. 

He was born on February 25, 1778, in Missiones. His 
father was a South American military officer, and served 
under the viceroys. The family removed to Spain in his 
boyhood, and placed him in the Seminary of Nobles in 
Madrid. 

At the age of twelve, he became a cadet. He was deco- 
rated with the colors of blue and white, which became the 
colors of South American liberty. He engaged in some of 
the military enterprises of Spain against the Moors and 
against Portugal. 

In the early part of the present century there was formed 
a society in London for the emancipation of South America 
from the Spanish rule. Its head was Miranda, and one of 
its animating spirits was Don Simon Bolivar. San Martin 
joined this society, and from that time but one purpose filled 
his soul — South American emancipation. 

San Martin won honors in the Spanish resistance to the 
victorious eagles of Napoleon. 

A young man, he landed in Buenos Ayres, his soul filled 
with visions of liberty. He led the patriots of Argentina in 
their successful struggle for freedom. He then conceived 
the plan of organizing an army to scale the Andes, and to 
descend upon the Spanish forces in Chili, and to begin there 
the war for emancipation. In the campaign against Napoleon, 
he had borne a banner of the sun with the motto, — "We bear 
this aloft dispersing the clouds." He made this the banner 
of his new enterprise. 

He organized the Army of the Andes at Mendoza, and on 
January 17, 18 17, he began his march towards the sky, carry- 
ing his artillery and stores on mules, a large number of which 



BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 1 47 

perished. He went up the Uspallata Pass or La Cumbre Pass, 
sometimes called the Via Eminentia, bearing the banner of 
the sun. The pass from Mendoza is some thirteen thousand 
feet high, four thousand or more feet higher than that of St. 
Bernard in Switzerland. Tupungato looms over it, twenty- 
thousand feet high, and Aconcagua, twenty-three thousand 
feet high, of which we have spoken. 

It was a high holiday in Mendoza when the army marched 
upward, and the banner of liberty, which had been made by 
the ladies of Mendoza for San Martin, disappeared. Mitre, in 
his " Life of San Martin," tells us that "that flag rose for the 
redemption of half of South America ; that it passed over the 
Cordillera to wave in triumph on the coast of the Pacific." 
He adds that after sixty-four years it served as a funeral pall 
for the body of the hero. 

The army met and defeated the army of the royalists, and 
entered Santiago in triumph. 

The royal arms gathered again. San Martin met them on 
April 5, 1 8 18, on the banks of the river Maipu. Here the 
great battle of the South American emancipation in the South 
was fought, and the practical independence of Argentina, 
Chili, and Peru was won. 

Before the battle, a thrilling event occurred. 

"I take the sun to witness," cried San Martin, "that this 
day is ours ! " 

The day was cloudy, but just as the hero had uttered these 
words the sun broke through the clouds, and shone on the 
banner of the sun, with its motto, — " We bear this aloft dis- 
persing the clouds." 

The night of the 5th of May found the Spanish royal army 



I48 OVER THE ANDES. 

in flight. The battle of Maipu is among the greatest events 
of South American history. The Chilenos were exultant. 
They offered San Martin the highest offices of state and ten 
thousand ounces of gold, as we have before related. 

" I do not fight for honors or gold," said he, in substance. 

He gave the gold offered him to Santiago for public use, 
and it was made the foundation fund for the grand library. 

San Martin now turned his attention to Peru. He created 
a navy, and prepared for the march of liberation. He em- 
barked with his army of Argentines and Chilenos from Val- 
paraiso on August 21, 1820. He said, " Ever since I returned 
to my native land, the Independence of Peru has been the 
purpose of my heart." 

He landed at the port of Lima, and the Spanish rule of the 
viceroys crumbled and fell. On July 20, 1821, the Inde- 
pendence of Peru was proclaimed in the great square of 
Lima, amid thunders of artillery, the shouts of the people, 
and strewings of flowers. 

The Peruvians, like the Chilenos, offered San Martin 
honors and wealth. They would have made him dictator, 
and placed him in the seat of the Incas and the viceroys. 

San Martin had a mind to comprehend the situation of the 
whole of South America, and to regard the good of the whole 
as greater than that of a part. He saw that Don Simon 
Bolivar could now better achieve the independence of the 
whole of South America without his aid than with it, for his 
army was jealous to make him their leader, and to invest him 
in the South with supreme power. 

He resolved to go away from South America, that he might 
not disturb her largest interest by his presence. 



BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 1 49 

He met General Bolivar at Guayaquil, and there, under the 
fiery arch of the equator, he announced his resolution. He 
returned to Peru, and from there wrote to Bolivar : " My 
decision is irrevocable. I have convened the first Congress 
of Peru. The day of its installation I shall leave Chili, con- 
vinced that my presence is the only obstacle that prevents 
you from coming to Peru." 

To the Peruvians he said, and nobler words never fell 
under more sublime circumstances from the lips of any 
patriot in all history : — 

/ " The presence of a fortunate general, however disinter- 
ested he may be, is dangerous to a newly founded state. / 
i have achieved the Independence of Pent ; I have ceased to be a 
I public man." 

He went abroad poor, he who might have had ten thousand 
ounces of gold. His wife had died. With his little daughter 
Mercedes he lived near Brussels, a simple, obscure man, hear- 
ing only from afar of the great events of the Western world. 
He died nearly thirty years after his voluntary exile, and was 
buried as obscurely as he had lived. 

Years passed in the silence of the grave. Then Argentina 
remembered him, and all that he had gained for others, and 
all that he had given up for others, and resolved to crown 
him dead. 

They built for him a throne of marble, engraved with the 
records of his deeds, and brought home his body. The day 
that his remains were enthroned was one on which the re- 
public stood still. No man ever had such a funeral in 
modern times, except Napoleon and Lincoln. They lifted 
his coffin upon the platform of marble, and there, amid 



150 OVER THE ANDES. 

emblems of grief and insignia of worth, they left him to 
eternal fame. 

The temple of his tomb is connected with the cathedral of 
Buenos Ayres and the plaza. There are few places more 
impressing and beautiful in the world. It holds a place in 
historic memory with the tombs of Washington, Lincoln, 
Bolivar. To see it in the light of what it represents, is worth 
a pilgrimage. 

" He had been what he ought to be." 

Our Boys met at the Hotel Universalle a gentleman named 
Warrener. He was a teacher. He had written verse for 
the American papers and magazines, and was going to Chili 
to study the Spanish language and literature under the di- 
rection of Mr. La Fetra, of the English Santiago College. 
He wished to join Our Boys at Mendoza and go over the Cor- 
dillera with them, and it was arranged that he should do so. 

He visited the tomb of San Martin one day with the Fro- 
bishers. He well knew the history of the hero, and he 
published in verse his impressions on making the visit in a 
Buenos Ayres English paper, and Arline added the poetic 
pictures of this writer's fancy to her note-book. 

AT THE TOMB OF SAN MARTIN. 



I came a stranger to that lonely tomb 
Where Art divine had paid her dues to worth, 
And made for him the solid marbles bloom, 
Who lived for man, but was not of the earth. 
Whose soul to freedom gave three empires birth, 
Climes of the future, where night's Southern Cross, 
God's jewels, hangs above the Andean towers. 



BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 1 5 I 

Who turned away, as though his gains were loss, 

From Argentina's purple seas of flowers, 

From high Peru throned 'mid her sun-crowned palms, 

And sea-girt Chili's fateful fields of war ; 

Nor sought to share the emprise of his arms 

That gave the skies his own republic's star. 

Grand were his words before he went afar : — 



" Patriots, I go, and never to return ; 
I seek no honors for the work I've done ; 
Let me but see the sunset ocean burn, 
And climb once more the Andes of the sun. 
Three golden empires lift their hands to me 
With titles, gifts, and pomps of kings of old! 
Did I accept them, I would not be free ! 
I fought for right ; I did not fight for gold. 
A soldier should not live where he has won ; 
A shaft of living light his fame should be, 
Unsullied and unthroned. Farewell, Pacific sky! 
Farewell, Peru! I go across the sea, 
With those who knew me not, to live and die, 
But free in soul, now that my work is done! 



"And wouldst thou know the secret of my heart? 
Fate gave these consecrated words to me, 
Seras lo que debes. We part, — 
You to your hills, I to the alien sea. 
I must be that that I ought to be. 
The ought of these strange words divinely given, 
First 'gainst Napoleon's eagles, drew my sword, 
Then led my feet to these plateaus of heaven ; 
Now I descend obedient to that word, 
Seras lo que debes, — that is my thought. 
Those words, like heaven's bells, by faith I hear, 
And I must be, Chilenos, what I ought, 



152 OVER THE ANDES. 

And what I ought, as yonder sun is clear : 
This sword I ought to sheathe. I do it here! 



" To give to others all one has of life, 
To seek from others nothing in award, 
To turn unpurchased from the field of strife, 
For honor sheathe as well as draw the sword, — 
This is the soldier of the fields of God! 
Chilenos, I have shared the soldier's lot, 
And slept with him upon the common sward ; 
Now Peace demands my name should be forgot ! 
I hold his life to be most wise and strong 
Who seeks advantage for himself no more ; 
Gives up his will, nor seeks nor gold nor song, 
Nor love, nor ease, but shuts 'gainst self the door! 
'Tis more than rank to be a soldier true! 
I only ask a soldier's grave, like you ! " 



Above him, 'gainst the irised clouds of fire, 
The happy condors wheeled on shadowy wings, 
Now toward the ocean wells, now scaling higher, 
The gold of sunshine scattering from their wings, 
But screaming free, as though terrestrial things 
Were but the lines of their transcendent flights, 
He saw them beat the seas of liquid air, 
And, circling, sweep above the crystal heights 
Of frozen rainbows, cold fire opals, where 
The ghost of suns reflected lead the nights, 
The winged kings, of all aerial powers, 
No danger knowing, seeking naught to shun, 
As free and glorious when the tempest lowers 
As upward mounting 'gainst the walls of sun. 

VI. 

" Ye condors, swimming in the seas of light, 
On wings that catch the earliest morning ray, 



BUENOS AYRES, THE BEAUTIFUL. 1 53 

Who ne 1 er have rested since your first young flight, 

Save on the crags that ocean torrents stay, 

Whose eyes forever face the eye of clay, — 

I have not rested, condors ; when ye fall, 

'Tis but to feed the nest, or crush the prey, 

Or die alone on some sea-mountain wall 

With spent wings spread ! But when thy young shall soar, 

Thou hidest in the cloudlands far, and they, 

Impatient of the empty sky and shore, 

Mount up, and fly forever, and obey 

The higher law that independence brings ! 

And leave the lowering Andes 'neath their wings. 



" O condors, condors of the skies, like thee, 
The winged emblems of these realms of the sun, 
I leave to nest safe cradled by the sea, 
Nor seek to own it now my work is done, 
Nor seek to profit by one victory won, 
For liberty and that young patriot brood 
Whose destiny is independent air; 
It is enough to strive for others 1 good, 
And for the same to go alone elsewhere ; 
We give up our complaints with our desires, 
'Tis right to struggle, and from struggle cease ; 
And all is won when one no more aspires. 
I fought for welfare, now I seek release, 
For welfare seeks her highest good in peace." 

VIII. 

He sunk the Cordillera's burning stairs, 
Where friendly stars had once his armies led, 
And caught the breath of Argentinian airs, 
Saw the auroras of the Atlantic red, 
Saw the shores fade, and so from glory fled ; 
Of empires three sought not a single gem, 
To dim the cause that he had loved so well, 



154 OVER THE ANDES. 

But counted worth life's richest diadem ; 
So, with his little daughter Mercedes, 
He came at last to Waterloo to dwell, 
Apart from courts of Bourbon or of Guelf, 
Incarial wealth, vice-regal pomps and bays. 
The world had kings, but he was not of them — 
His love for man was greater than for himself. 

IX. 

The world's immortal Creole, thou in fame 

Thy monumental solitude dost hold. 

In this resplendent church where altars flame 

And music rolls through sacristies of gold! 

Here young yEneas leads Italy old, 

A third Troy, rinding for his pastoral palms 

To share the freedom that thy soul gave birth! — 

Grand was that day when Buenos Ayres 1 arms 

His lost remains received from alien earth, 

And laid them here. The panegyrics said, 

The silver bells all tolling o'er the sea, 

The nation weeping with uncovered head, 

They bore him up to the shrine of Liberty, 

And crowned him dead — a more than king was 



Who here could stand and read this templed name 

Whose angels, Freedom, Commerce, Industry, 

Have burst the solid marbles to proclaim 

How great the soul that conquers self may be, 

And not that high immortal destiny see 

For which the soul was formed, nor seek to rise, 

Upon the Mount of Vision, and design 

His life for welfare 'neath revealing skies, 

Like him who saw the temple's pattern shine ; 

Nor be content earth's common crust to share, 

And so fulfil within the OUGHT divine, 

If he might know that he had lit elsewhere 

The festal lamps of human brotherhood, 

And lost himself in universal good? 



CHAPTER XIV. 

the wonders of buenos ayres — the recoleta the 

largest commercial roof in the world dr. dee — 

the north american normal school — stories at dr. 
dee's. 

HAVING visited the tomb of San Martin, Our Boys break- 
fasted, and then went to the Palermo, a winding park 
of palms, grottos, fountains, and statues ; curved streets of 
elegant houses of every expression of wealth, refinement, and 
art. 

The Palermo brought them to the Recoleta, a marble city 
of the dead, that looked like a garden of art. 

A noble church stood at one corner of this field of white. 
In it funerals were held. A funeral service was going on : 
a chant was heard ; a coach for the dead, that might have 
been an imperial chariot, stood before the door; it had splen- 
did horses, black and restless. 

" I never saw such a grand funeral carriage as that," said 
Arline. " Let us go into the church." 

The interior was vast and dim. It was filled with men, 
who were kneeling, holding tall lighted candles in their 
hands. The resplendent altar was being lighted. The organ 
music was a solemn enchantment. 

There followed imposing ceremonies, which our travellers 
did not understand. As the altar became luminous, the 

i55 



156 OVER THE ANDES. 

beauty of the church was revealed. It was full of the fra- 
grance of flowers, and a cloud of incense added to the odor- 
ous atmosphere. 

They came out into the bright air, under the blue sky. It 
seemed like another world. 

" Why were there no women at the funeral ? " asked 
Arline. 

"Women do not attend public funerals here, I have been 
told," said Uncle Henry. 

"There is a tomb in the Recoleta that I wish to see," said 
Leigh. 

" Sarmiento's ? " asked Uncle Henry. 

" I have heard Elizabeth Peabody speak of Sarmiento 
many times," said Arline. " He was sometimes entertained 
by her brother-in-law, Horace Mann, I think, while he was 
the Argentine Minister to the United States. Charles Sum- 
ner was his friend. Miss Peabody knew him, and they dis- 
cussed education together. He used to say that the United 
States owed her glory to education. He wrote a book called 
' Facundo Quiroga,' which was translated by Mrs. Horace 
Mann, in which Miss Peabody must have taken a great in- 
terest. It is one of the most interesting books that I ever 
read." 

They entered the great garden of marble, under the lofty 
gates. How beautiful it was ! The flowers, the monu- 
mental houses, the emblems of immortal life ! 

The coffins, many of which were works of art, were ex- 
posed to view. Some of the tombs were lighted with lamps 
or candles ; many of them were decorated with fresh flowers, 
and nearly all of them with immortelles. 



THE WONDERS OF BUENOS AYRES. 1 57 

" In a place like this, it would seem almost beautiful to be 
dead," said Leigh. 

The Italian art sense was everywhere. Almost every tomb 
bore some new expression of immortality. The crosses, angels, 
statues, were of wonderful beauty. 

" This," said Arline, " must be the most beautiful ceme- 
tery in all the world." 

" There are cemeteries in Italy that are as beautiful," said 
Uncle Henry. 

They did not find the monument to Sarmiento at once ; 
but they met with a memorial to Wheelwright, with whose 
story this book opens. Leigh said to one of the gardeners 
in his own Spanish, — 

" Donde csta la tumba de Sarmiento ?" (Where is the 
tomb of Sarmiento ? ) 

The brown-faced man lifted himself from the flower-bed 
over which he was bending. It touched his heart to find 
Americans here, seeking this patriotic tomb. 

" Veiiga" he said, and led them through avenues of marble 
angels and crosses. 

They came to a plat of flowers. Out of it rose a shaft 
covered with records of glory. At the base of it were reliefs. 

They stood and read the record of fame. Then Leigh, 
looking down on one of the reliefs, said, — 

" Was Sarmiento ever a teacher ? " 

" I have heard Elizabeth Peabody speak of him as such," 
said Arline. 

" Then, come here ; look at that bas-relief. There he is 
surrounded by the children ! " 

It was a delightful view of the Argentine's President's 



158 OVER THE ANDES. 

character that the sculptor had here given. Sarmiento, the 
hero, the statesman, the man of great events, never forgot 
the children, or the relation that they bore to the state. 

" I would like to become a teacher," said Leigh, as he 
stood there. " I think that it is one of the noblest callings 
in life. All of these records of war are to me nothing beside 
this picture of Sarmiento as a teacher." 

"It seems strange," said Arline, "that we should be 
standing by the tomb of one who received lessons in life 
from Horace Mann, Mrs. Mann, and Elizabeth Peabody. It 
makes the world seem small." 

" I wish to visit the storage warehouse for grain and 
wool," said Alonzo, on coming out of the beautiful cemetery, 
and sitting down before it on one of the seats of the Palermo 
among the flowers. " I have read that it has the largest roof 
in all the world." 

"Later," said Uncle Henry; "it is quite a distance from 
here." 

They returned to Calle San Martin. 

There was a most intelligent, influential, and hospitable 
family living in Buenos Ayres, named Dee. They were en- 
gaged in missionary education, and their home, which was 
simple but beautiful, was a place of resort for all travellers 
interested in missionary and educational progress. Dr. Dee 
had a large mind, a warm heart, and the genius of the work 
to which he had been called. He was an extensive traveller, 
had lived in Mexico, and had the reputation of being one of 
the best Spanish scholars among the North American resi- 
dents. He had accomplished, in a quiet way, a noble work 
of permanent value, the outlook of which is so large that it 



THE WONDERS OF BUENOS AYRES. 1 59 

must be numbered among the great influences of the 
world. 

Uncle Henry, in his travels, had been accustomed to call 
on missionaries in foreign ports. He left his card at Dr. 
Dee's office, and received an invitation from the doctor to 
meet him at his house, which was on a long street, somewhat 
removed from the business part of the city. 

Thither, one afternoon, went Captain Henry, Our Boys, 
and Arline. 

They were warmly welcomed. Had they been brothers 
and sister to members of the family, they could not have 
been more so. They were then introduced to Mrs. Dee, 
who made them feel at home at once, and who immediately 
took Arline to her heart. Simple refreshments were served 
amid Argentine flowers, such as were constantly being sent 
to Mrs. Dee, who was the heart of a great circle of 
friends. 

The Dees saw the earnest purpose in the lives of Our 
Boys and Arline. For them to see such a purpose was to 
offer a ready sympathy. The Dees were people of wonder- 
ful social charm and accomplishments ; they numbered the 
United States Minister, the Consul, and a large number of 
literary people among their friends ; but their lives stood for 
growth, and this spirit of growth had been one of the reasons 
of the Doctor's success in his work of Christian education. 

After an hour's conversation, Mrs. Dee said to Arline : — 

"You tell me that you are stopping with your uncle at 
the hotel. Could you not be induced to make your home 
with me during your visit in Buenos Ayres ? " 

Arline was surprised at the suggestion. She had no claim 



l60 OVER THE ANDES. 

whatever on Mrs. Dee, whom she saw lived very simply, 
notwithstanding her high social position. 

"I would be glad to do so," said Arline ; "but I fear I 
would be something of a burden to you. In return for your 
kindness, I would wish to be asking questions all of the time." 

" Then you are a girl after my own heart," said Mrs. Dee. 
" That is one of the reasons why we are in Buenos Ayres. 
My home shall be yours. What is there in Buenos Ayres 
that you would most like to see?" 

" The North American Normal School," said Arline. " Do 
they have kindergarten schools here ? " 

" We have a kindergarten in our normal school, the one 
connected with our own work," said Mrs. Dee. "There is 
also, I think, a kindergarten department in our normal- 
school work carried on by the city. Are you interested in 
kindergartens ? " 

"Yes," answered Arline. Then she told Mrs. Dee about 
Elizabeth Peabody ; and how that Mrs. Mann had known 
Sarmiento, and had translated one of his books, which she 
regarded as one of the most interesting books ever written. 

" I have a copy of it in my library," said Mrs. Dee. 

" You can read it in Spanish ? " 

" Oh, yes ! I speak and read Spanish. The book is very 
dramatic, and presents the picture of the change from 
barbarism to civilization in the Argentine in a very vivid way, 
and I am proud to meet one who knew the translator of it, 
and prouder yet to find you alive to the educational needs of 
this country as a pupil of the ideals of Sarmiento, and a 
friend of Miss Peabody. I will go with you to visit our 
norma] and kindergarten schools." 



THE WONDERS OF BUENOS AYRES. l6l 

Dr. Dee had been several times over the mountain passes 
of the Andes. He had been up the Oroya railroad, and to 
Lake Titicaca, and into Bolivia, and during these journeys 
he had written many letters to Mrs. Dee which gave views 
of the manner of travelling, the scenery, and the habits and 
customs of the people. From extracts from these letters she 
had made a very charming little book, which had been printed 
in the interest of their work. 

So when Our Boys, who were attracted to Mrs. Dee as a 
most sympathetic source of information, asked her about 
the travellers whom she had entertained before making the 
Transandine journey, — how they prepared themselves to 
go, and like things, — she said, — ■ 

" If you will stay to tea with me, and spend the evening, 
I will read to you from my book of Dr. Dee's letters a 
narrative of how he made one of his journeys over the 
Andes." 

This invitation Our Boys were delighted to accept, and in 
the evening Mrs. Dee related and read a narrative of how 
the Doctor had made the journey that they were soon expect- 
ing to make. . It began as follows : — 

OVER THE ANDES. 

" The passage of the great Cordillera is one requiring some 
special preparation, owing to the mode of travel and lack of 
suitable accommodations. The services of an arriero, or mule- 
teer, with the necessary animals, must be secured, and it is 
well to carry a portable cot, a limited supply of provisions, 
and an alcohol lamp for heating water for tea or coffee. 

" We had secured our outfit before leaving Buenos Ayres," 



l62 OVER THE ANDES. 

continued the interesting account, " and concluded the pre- 
liminaries of our journey at Mendoza, with a view to mak- 
ing .the start in the early evening, and accomplishing the 
passage of the hot, dry pampa in the coolness of the 
night. A little after six o'clock our arriero appeared with 
two baggage mules, having left our saddle animals at the 
meson, where we were to mount. We saw the larger pack- 
ages lashed to the mules, took the rest of our outfit into a 
carriage, and bade farewell to the friends who wished us bon 
voyage. But we were not fairly off yet, as we found to our 
sorrow. It was nine o'clock before we left the Posada 
Chilena, where we loaded and mounted, and then our drago- 
man stopped further on to get his furniture and provisions. 
It was now nearly ten o'clock, and how much longer we might 
have been delayed is uncertain, had not the travellers' patience 
broken down, leading them to give utterance to some decidedly 
energetic protests and adjurations. 

"At last we were fairly started, our road lying directly 
northward, between long lines of Lombardy poplars, extend- 
ing for a mile or more beyond the outskirts of the city. 

" At the last house on the road we stopped to see if we could 
get lodging, in which case we would have slept three or four 
hours, and taken a fresh start. But we could not get hospi- 
tality, so, begging a bottle of water, for we would find none 
on the forty miles of pampa before us, we fared onward into 
the desert and the night. 

" It was a most magnificent night. There was a gentle 
breeze in our faces, soft and warm, with not the remotest sug- 
gestion of cold or damp with it, and we were perfectly com- 
fortable without any wraps. The moon had just sunk beneath 



THE WONDERS OF BUENOS AYRES. 163 

the high mountain wall on our left. I was never so much im- 
pressed by the magnificent march of the stars. Taurus, with 
beautiful Aldebaran, was just hanging on the verge of the 
dark mountain top. After him followed in swift pursuit 
Orion, the hunter, leading the Dog, with Sirius shining in 
unequalled splendor. Not far away Procyon and the Twins, 
and after them Leo, his bright sickle transformed by the 
presence of Saturn into a perfect figure 5, swept adown the 
gleaming arch. Later on in the night the glory of the South- 
ern sky was seen at its best. The Southern Cross came to 
the zenith, set in that most magnificent section of the Milky 
Way, whose brilliance seems the greater by contrast with the 
black Coal Pit. The two bright stars of the Centaur, like 
faithful messengers, pointed the way of the Cross. The 
Scorpion came out of the mists of the eastern horizon, but 
his sting was gone. The Magellan clouds were like patches 
of filmy lace on the sky. 

" The beauty of the night calmed my spirit, and thoughts, 
bright and sweet and tender, came to me of my distant 
home and wife, and then ran forward to the work before me 
on this journey. For four hours, sleep was driven from me, 
but about two o'clock in the morning came upon me like a 
strong man armed, and I found myself, as my companion had 
long been doing, reeling in the saddle. We gave the word to 
our muleteer to stop, and while he unloaded and picketed the 
mules, we dropped down upon a rawhide laid upon the stony 
ground by the roadside, and were almost instantly asleep. 

" I awoke with a start at five o'clock to find the stars all 
gone, save the bright herald of the dawn, which was already 
kindling the eastern sky into crimson and gold. 



164 OVER THE ANDES. 

"At a quarter past five we were in motion again, and 
pushed rapidly on until eight, when we stopped, and in the 
shade (not very dense) of a scrubby bush opened our lunch- 
basket, made tea with the water from our bottle, tried our 
provisions, and found them excellent. 

" This took us about an hour. After a little more than two 
hours' riding in the hot sun over the scorched pampa, we 
turned into the ravine, which brought us at about an hour 
before noon to Villavicencio. The tall poplars, three or four 
in number, though ragged and gaunt, were a cheering 
vision. 

"We dismounted, and had only strength to drag out our 
cots, spread them under the narrow porch of the miserable 
mud post-house, and stretch our cramped and weary limbs 
upon them. An hour later we got the people of the 
place to cook us a steak, with an Qgg and a few slices of 
potato, and I made coffee for the first time, with good 
success. At half-past three we set out once more, and in 
less than three hours reached Los Hornillos, said to be nine- 
teen leagues from Mendoza. 

" This last stretch of road was very picturesque, rising rap- 
idly between steep, rugged mountains. In one place the path 
led straight to the foot of a high cliff of reddish rock, or 
hardened clay, and then turned suddenly to the right up 
a steep zigzag between walls of gray rock, broken into a 
thousand crevices and seams. Upon the face of the preci- 
pice, and near its summit, we saw, as we approached, several 
condors pluming their wings, but evidently indisposed for 
flight. As we turned the corner, we found the explanation 
of their presence, and also of their inertia, in the carcass of 



THE WONDERS OF BUENOS AYRES. 1 65 

a dead animal upon which they had evidently gorged 
themselves. 

"The post-house at Los Hornillos is much better than the 
one at Villavicencio. The house is plastered, the earthen 
floors are covered with rough matting, and the rooms and 
beds are passably clean. We had thought to push on the 
same night for Uspallata, but it came on to rain heavily, and 
the weather continued so bad that we were storm-bound all 
the next day. 

"We reached Uspallata in good condition, after a steady 
ride of seven hours and a quarter. The route led us over 
the summit and down the western side of the Paramillos 
range to the valley of Uspallata, and left us face to face with 
the grand Cordillera, into which we were to plunge immedi- 
ately upon entering the next stage of our journey. It was 
foggy and drizzling when we left Los Hornillos, but in an 
hour we were above the clouds, and had bright weather all 
the way. 

"The Paramillos range affords a striking combination of 
grandeur and desolation. 

" The mountains rise high on both sides of the road, and 
the bare rocks are of all colors and shapes. There is one 
narrow gorge where the rocks are black, as if the fires of the 
great furnace had just died out. Again, the strata are red or 
gray or blue tinted. At one point, we passed what seemed 
to be a lone grave, where some wanderer had perished by 
the way. There were buzzards floating on poised wings 
overhead, guanacos feeding in the distance, and a single 
ostrich standing out against the sky on the rounded sum- 
mit of a distant hill. 



1 66 OVER THE ANDES. 

" The first view of the great Cordillera burst upon us 
suddenly as we turned a bend in the gorge. We could not 
learn from our guide whether any one of the peaks before us 
had a name known to our childhood's geography, or marked 
upon the map ; but there stood the mighty snow-crowned 
range glittering in the morning sun, and sending to us an 
icy breeze, which made us thankful for warm clothing. 

" The valley of Uspallata, with its alfalfa fields and winding 
river, looked very beautiful after the barren mountains. It 
has the appearance of having been the bed of a lake now 
drained through the mountain chasm opened toward Mendoza 
by some earthquake. Up this canon the Transandine rail- 
road is building, and is now nearly complete up to what will 
be Uspallata station, a league south of this posada. 

" The next stage was a long one. We were in the saddle 
from half-past five a.m. till seven p.m., nearly fourteen hours, 
with only a break of less than an hour from eleven to twelve, 
when we stopped to take lunch, prepared by ourselves, at a 
very picturesque place called Arroyo de Picheuta. At this 
.point there comes tumbling out of a steep gorge between 
two high mountains, a boiling torrent of bluish-white water, 
which has long since washed out all the sand and small 
stones, and now frets itself into a white rage among the 
huge boulders which it cannot move. The stream is danger- 
ous on account of the large stones over which the horses 
must stumble at the risk of breaking a limb, or precipitating 
the rider into the flood, so we took the bridge, an old stone 
arch, very narrow and very rough, with a steep approach at 
either end. 

" Our course lay almost due west most of the day, following 



THE WONDERS OF BUENOS AYRES. 1 67 

up the left or northern bank of the river Mendoza until we 
crossed one of its principal branches by a well-built bridge 
just before arriving at Punta de las Vacas, the night's halting- 
place. This river is a rapid torrent, carrying quite a volume 
of water, though not by any means covering its wide, gravelly 
bed. 

" Evidently the valley was once filled to a great height by a 
vast bed of drift, deposited, perhaps, ages ago by an immense 
glacier. 

" Remains of these drift-beds are seen first on one side and 
then on the other, the river having cut its way down through 
from thirty to fifty feet of it, leaving a perpendicular bank 
showing the various layers of sand and gravel through which 
it has worked. The river receives on one side and the other 
numerous mountain streams flowing down the steep gorges, 
which open at right angles to its course. 

" Our road lay at times almost at the level of the stream, 
and again up and around the sharp shoulder of a mountain 
at whose base were roaring waters. At one place we made a 
rapid descent in the face of the cliff, almost to the river level, 
and then rose by a long zigzag to about the height we had left. 
I never saw such high, precipitous mountains, nor such varied 
colors, qualities, and shapes in the rocks. 

" The road is not bad, and may be said to be perfectly safe. 
Much of it is over nearly level ground or very gradual slopes. 
Even where the road is cut in the face of the steep mountains 
or overhangs the river, it is smooth, and wide enough to give 
perfectly secure footing. 

" There are two or three places where the' overhanging 
banks are apparently of loose material, or where rocks, tumbled 



1 68 OVER THE ANDES. 

from great heights, have been stopped almost inexplicably in 
their descent, and lie in positions from which it would seem 
that a gust of wind, or the slightest impulse of any sort, would 
send them hurling down upon the passer-by. But they have 
been in just those positions possibly for generations, and one 
reproves himself for the involuntary dread and feeling of 
fear when he has got safely from under." 

This part of the narrative related to the earlier stages of 
the journey, and over a way now traversed in part by the 
railroad. It gave Our Boys a picture of the journey before 
them, and they were eager to follow the steps of Dr. Dee, as 
described in his letters, of which his wife had formed a con- 
nected narrative. 



CHAPTER XV. 

IN BUENOS AYRES AND MONTEVIDEO ARLINE AND LEIGH 

GO SHOPPING WITH REMARKABLE RESULTS. 

ALONZO, in Buenos Ayres, saw the world in a new light. 
What meant these great cities of docks, these three 
immense ports over which floated and mingled the English, 
German, and Italian flags ? Why was the flag of the United 
States not seen here ? 

What was the value of this flourishing trade, this stupen- 
dous commerce with Europe ? He began to study the mer- 
cantile houses. What a view of the future they brought to 
him ! 

" Uncle Henry," he said after reading some of these con- 
sular and commercial documents, " you said that you liked 
to have us travel that we might intelligently decide on what 
occupation in life we were to follow. I have decided what 
I wish to do." 

" What is it, my boy ? " 

" I wish to follow your own calling of trading among the 
ports of the South." 

" You could not please me better. I am growing old. I 
have often hoped that I might transfer my business to you, 
but I have wished you to choose this business of life for your- 
self. A man can only win the highest success of which he 
is capable by following the calling of his own choice. I am 

169 



I/O OVER THE ANDES. 

glad, I repeat, to find that that plan of life has found a place 
in your mind." 

" Uncle, to be successful, I must prepare for such a busi- 
ness. Leave me here in Buenos Ayres. Let me go into 
some commercial house for a year, even if I have to work 
for my board. The consul will give me good advice in the 
matter. I wish to study the trade of Buenos Ayres." 

"You are on the right way," said Uncle Henry; "but you 
are not ready to pursue this course now. I wish you to go 
to Valparaiso with me, and to Callao, the port of Peru, and 
to see the great trade in the nitrates. I want you to go with 
me to Panama, and see the wreck of the attempted canal ; to 
the ports of Mexico, and make a study of the vanilla trade ; 
to Costa Rica, and to its beautiful capital San Jose, and visit 
the coffee farms. I have planned to have you visit with me 
Grey Town, and the San Juan River, and Lake Nicaragua, 
where are to be the two water gates of the two worlds. 
There will arise a great port city on the Nicaragua Canal ; 
and when the gates between the two oceans open, San Fran- 
cisco will grow, and there will expand the port cities on the 
west coast of South America, especially so, if the mines of 
Quito are reopened. The Nicaragua Canal, which is certain 
to be accomplished, will make a new world of the South. 
On the one side, lies the East ; on the other, lies Japan, 
China, and India." 

" I see, Uncle, that your plan for me is the larger and the 
better one." 

Alonzo began to study Spanish in earnest and at once. 
The German young men have a great advantage over young 
Americans in these countries, for they come here with a com- 



IN BUENOS AYRES AND MONTEVIDEO. \*]\ 

mercial education that includes the Spanish language. There 
is a school in Geneva, Switzerland, that is devoted to trade 
languages, to commercial arithmetic and geography and inter- 
national law. There should be many such schools in the 
United States. A new commercial era is at hand, after the 
small political follies of the present time are past, and the great 
canal divides the ocean. The Nicaragua Canal will mean 
much to the world. It tends to make the nations one ; it 
will follow arbitration in the steps of the progress of mankind. 
The austral age is coming — the time of the republics of 
the sun. 

Alonzo saw the future in this light. 

Spanish ? He had been studying it for a year. It seemed 
to him to be the easiest language in the world. Why should 
not this language tend to become universal, instead of the 
complicated English tongue ? 

The Spanish is not only simple : it is musical ; it is polite. 
The answer may be that England is the commercial nation 
of the world, and her language is that of ships ; that the 
United States is the progressive nation in agriculture and 
manufactories, and the land of immigrations, and she changes 
all tongues into English. 

Alonzo thought that he would try his Spanish. So when 
he returned to the hotel, he said in an imperfect way: " Mui- 
streme la tarifa. Donde puedo sentarme comer. Donde es la 
barberia ? Afeiteme." 

He was understood. 

He then went to an almecen, or variety store, and asked the 
price of panuelos (handkerchiefs), camisas (shirts), medias 
(socks), cuellos (collars), guantes (gloves), jabon (soap). 



172 OVER THE ANDES. 

He was understood again. 

He went to a medicine-man, who asked, "Que tienef — 
Dolor de cabeza f — de musculos ? — - de vientre ? — reuma- 
tismo ? — resfriado ? " 

He did not understand, but he said, "Quiero que me recite 
una mediciiia." 

He was understood. 

He was able to read the Spanish papers, but he called on 
a Spanish editor one day, who began to talk of American 
and English tariffs in a rapid and excited way. He could 
not understand a single word. He might as well have gone 
down to the boca and have listened to the sea. 

" An English-speaking traveller can make himself well 
understood in these Spanish-American countries long before 
he himself can follow rapid speaking in the native language," 
said Uncle Henry to Alonzo, who had spoken to him of his 
success and failures in his attempts to use Spanish. 

" It is more easy to train the tongue than the ear. What 
you now need is to become a good listener." 

Alonzo, young as he was, saw daily how great was the need 
of new ideas in the United States in regard to the demands of 
markets in the ports of the South. It hurt his pride to see 
the great steamers coming and going, the ocean giants of Eng- 
land, Germany, and Italy, and seldom to find the Stars and 
Stripes among the prosperous flags. He began to read the 
pamphlets of the Bureau of the Pan-American Congress and 
literature of the Human Freedom League. 

As he followed the trend of this literature, he saw how large 
and wise were his uncle's plans for him. He was glad that 
he was going to Mexico and Central America. Such educa- 



IN BUENOS AYRES AND MONTEVIDEO. 1 73 

tional travel would enable him to begin a commercial life with 
advantage. 

Arline's ideas, too, were enlarging ; but they were led by a 
secret purpose that she was cherishing, which was so original, 
and so followed the large plans of Elizabeth Peabody, that 
she scarcely dared to speak of them. What was her plan ? 
You shall be told later. 

Leigh ? Was he getting into position for some useful 
active work in life? He was, but he did not see it himself. 
Nor did Uncle Henry. He thought that he was preparing 
to be a literary man or a naturalist. But these professions 
were to be but tributary streams to a deeper current in life 
which was flowing in his veins, but whose meaning he had 
not yet apprehended. 

From Buenos Ayres Our Boys made an excursion to Monte- 
video, — San Felipe de Montevideo, — a wonderfully beau- 
tiful city, and one of the cleanest and most healthful in South 
America. It is situated on the estuary of the Rio de la 
Plata, one hundred and thirty-two miles from Buenos Ayres. 

The trip from the latter city was made in a hotel-like 
steamer in a single night. The red morning revealed noble 
coast scenery. The landing, on account of the heavy surf, 
was somewhat difficult. 

Our Boys were delighted with the Uruguayan capital. 
The suburbs were a paradise of blooming villas, and the reco- 
leta, or cemetery, was like the burial ground of Buenos Ayres, 
one of the beautiful places of the world. 

There is an expression of refinement here, which, with the 
noble scenery, will always leave a dream in the traveller's 
mind. There is a charm and soul ideal in this city that will 



174 OVER THE ANDES. 

haunt one who seeks the best in life. Cities have souls, 
voices, and moral atmospheres. 

Arline visited the North American school in this city. It 
was at that time in charge of one of the teachers of whom she 
had heard, and she found in the girls' department a little kin- 
dergarten school. It was just beginning to bloom like an 
early Uruguayan violet. 

The teacher then in charge of the girls' department of the 
large school was Miss Mary E. Bowen, born in Warren, 
R.I., and trained for her work in one of the great schools 
for such purposes in Chicago. 

The interior of the school building, with xX.^ patio, was most 
delightful. The school numbered some sixty or more pupils, 
who were preparing to advance, either directly or indirectly, 
the educational interests of Uruguay. The school showed 
the results of earnest, faithful, inspiring minds, and Arline 
was pleased to hear Miss Bowen say, " I am perfectly happy 
in my work." The words haunted Arline. It was not the 
beauty of the city, or of the green hills, or wide rolling sea 
that made this teacher happy, but the zvork. It was work 
that had a future : the kind of work that makes a home of 
the heart wherever duty is. 

ARLINE AND LEIGH GO SHOPPING WONDERFUL ARGENTINE 

BIRDS. 

Arline proposed to Leigh one day that they visit the bird- 
stores in Buenos Ayres, and see the parrots of Argentina. 

" One parrot will do," said Uncle Henry. " Do you really 
intend to take Loro over the Cordillera ? " 



IN BUENOS AYRES AND MONTEVIDEO. 1 75 

" Yes, Uncle, unless you forbid it. Loro will find friends 
all the way ; I have read that the muleteers are very ac- 
commodating." 

Uncle Henry was acquainted with an ornithologist in Buenos 
Ayres, and he took his bird-loving niece and nephew to his 
bird-garden. 

Leigh was introduced to three birds of different species, all 
of which he wished to buy. 

" I give you my aviary garden," said the ornithologist, with 
the usual Spanish expression of extreme politeness. This 
seemed very generous. The polite bird-collector quite en- 
chanted Leigh with an account of a white-banded mocking- 
bird of which he had specimens for sale. 

" It is the king of mocking-birds, and it outdoes in its song 
all other birds in the world. When it sings, the very trees 
stop to listen." 

This was Oriental language, but may have been true, as 
none of the trees ever walked away from the place of their 
enchantment. There was a certain truth in the figure, for an 
ornithologist, in speaking of this bird, once said, — 

" Its melody delights the soul above all other bird music," 
and again, " This bird is among song-birds like the diamond 
among stones." 

Leigh desired to secure one of these white mocking-birds 
of enthrilling song. 

He expressed his great interest in the bird to the collector, 
and since the latter had said, — 

" Senor, I give you my aviary garden," he expected to hear 
him say, " Senor, I give you one of my white-banded mock- 
ing-birds." 



176 OVER THE ANDES. 

But somehow, strangely enough, he did not. 

Leigh's imagination grew. If only he could take with 
him one of these captive birds, and some time hear it sing 
its rapturous song ! How such a Jenny Lind among birds 
would delight the boys and girls of Milton Hills ! 

" Oh, buy one ! " said Arline, in an aside tone. 

" What shall I do with it ? " 

" Carry it with you. If I can carry Loro, you can take a 
simple bird like that along with you." 

Leigh inquired of the collector if the bird were hardy, and 
was assured that it was. 

" Could I carry it in a cage to Valparaiso, over the Cordil- 
lera ? " He was assured that he could do so. And would 
it some day repay him by pouring forth his marvellous song? 
Certainly, the bird would. 

As the collector, notwithstanding that he had given him 
the whole of the bird-garden, did not specify this " diamond 
among song-birds" as a part of the gift, Leigh paid him a 
good price for one, and said to Arline, " What will Uncle 
Henry now say ? " 

The collector having secured one good bargain, next ap- 
pealed not to Leigh's ears, but his eyes. He showed him a 
white-capped tanager, a bird in royal purple, with a white 
cap on its head tinted with red. 

" Oh, what a beauty ! " said Arline, with lifted hands. 

"This bird," said the collector, "is called Linda, or the 
beautiful, the blue, white-headed beautiful. It is the summer 
bird of Buenos Ayres. During the incubation of the female 
bird, the male hides himself among the leaves and flowers, 
and sings to her all the day long." 



IN BUENOS AYRES AND MONTEVIDEO. I// 

As the collector did not say, " I will give you Linda the 
beautiful," Leigh bought one. 

" You now have the most beautiful singing bird in all the 
world, and also the bird of the most royal plumage ! I wish 
to show you another bird." 

He next introduced the delighted travellers to a specimen 
of the red oven-bird, the bird of the house and garden, about 
whom he told fairy tales. 

"This," said the collector, "is -a. pious bird; it keeps fast- 
days." 

Just here Uncle Henry reappeared and threw a shadow 
over the Arabian atmosphere, by saying to Leigh that he 
would do well not to add this pious bird to the collection. 
"We are not going to take a menagerie over the Andes," he 
said. " If Arline takes Loro, and you take the mocking- 
bird and Linda, you will have all the pets that you will be 
able to manage when you are struck by the winds on the 
cumbre." 

Arline and Leigh bowed and bowed to the polite collector 
as they departed. They felt under obligations to him. He 
had given them his aviary garden, his store, and had secured 
a good price for his birds : it costs nothing to be polite. 

After Leigh had taken beautiful Linda to the hotel, he 
noticed that the bird seemed lonely. He recalled the legend 
of this species of birds that the munificent bird-vender had 
related to him ; this brought on a tender-hearted conscience 
stroke, and he returned to the aviary and bought for her a 
mate. 

"Two of them?" asked Uncle Henry, when he next went 
to the cage. " And they are to go over the Andes ! My 

N 



I7§ OVER THE ANDES. 

boy, when the high winds of the high Andes strike you at 
some point twice as high as Mt. Washington, under peaks 
three or more times as high, I am afraid that your beautiful 
birds will ruffle their feathers. I pity them. Enjoy the 
sunshine while you may, my lovely Lindas." 

Arline heard these discouraging words. 

" I will protect Loro, if I almost perish myself," she said. 

" You will find friends in your need, I have no doubt," said 
Uncle Henry, " like a woman with a baby." 

Alonzo, whose mind was wholly given to the study of com- 
mercial business, strongly disapproved of his brother's pur- 
chase of caged birds. 

"I will return them or give them away," said Leigh, "if 
my plans will cause you trouble." 

Alonzo looked at the Lindas, the beautiful, and imagined 
what it might be to his old school friends to hear the Argen- 
tine mocking-bird sing. 

" No, Leigh, do not return the birds. Many people carry 
caged birds on steamers in this country, and if you can cross 
the winter weather on the tops of the Andes with them, you 
may enjoy having them with you. Do not return them." 

The purple Lindas, with their white heads with a few 
feathers like rubies, appealed to his sense of beauty ; he was 
sorry that they had been bought, and yet he would be un- 
willing to have them sold. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO THE ESTANCIA CALIFORNIA — 

TALES OF THE GRAN CHACO. 

THE Frobishers wished to see the enterprising city of 
Rosario, so Uncle Henry said one day to the boys, as 
they were walking along the wharves of the great steamers: 
"There comes the little steamer 'San Martin' full of mer- 
chandise, fruit, parrots, and everything. She plies between 
Buenos Ayres and Rosario. Let us return on her to Rosa- 
rio, and see the river Parana." 

The word "parrots " caught the ear of Leigh. 

" Let us go and see her land her passengers and parrots," 
he said. 

" But you are not to purchase any more parrots, no matter 
how wonderful the birds you may see. Loro is the only one 
that we can afford to carry with us. Do you really expect to 
take her over the Andes on a mule ? " 

" Yes, Uncle, if you do not absolutely forbid it. As long 
as Loro sticks to me, I will be true to her. I wish to carry 
back to Milton a bird with a history." 

" The bird will have a history if she passes through the 
high winds on the La Cumbre mountain pass," said Uncle 
Henry, good-humoredly. " If her feathers do not get ruffled 
there, they will be able to stand the open March winds on 
Dorchester Bay. People usually wear an overcoat, a poncho, 

179 



ISO OVER THE ANDES. 

a bonnet over their caps, and leggins over boots on that pass, 
and if the snow should snow, and the wind should blow, alas 
for poor Polly ! " 

They went down to the landing where the "San Martin" 
came puffing in. 

What a freight the steamer bore ! Argentines, Indians, 
Italians; great bins of oranges, bananas, and fruits unknown 
to our travellers, of many kinds. An hundred or more parrots. 

But there was one passenger that at once attracted Leigh's 
eye, more curious than all the rest, whether of people, ani- 
mals, or birds. He was chained to a place near the wheel- 
house, and seemed very restless and uneasy. As the boat 
touched the wharf, and the passengers began to crowd 
towards the landing-plank, he rolled over and entangled 
himself in his chain. He evidently was not used to being 
restricted in this way. 

"Uncle Henry, what is it ? " asked Leigh. Uncle Henry 
did not need any further description of the particular object 
on which Leigh wished to fix his attention. 

" That is an animal that puts his tongue into a pocket ; 
we saw a little one before on another boat." 

" Where is his pocket ? " asked Leigh. 

" In his mouth. He has plenty of room for it there, for 
he has no teeth. When he wants food, he runs his tongue 
out of his pocket, where it is doubled up when it is not in 
use, and as it is covered with a viscid saliva, he draws in in- 
sects for food. He is a great sleeper. He doubles himself 
up when he goes to sleep, as he doubles up his tongue when 
he is not hunting insects with it. He doubles his long head 
and snout against his breast, and clasps his legs around both, 



UP THE PARANA, ROSAKIO. 151 

and he sleeps in the form of a ball, and of what he dreams 
no man knows." 

" What is its favorite food, Uncle ? " 

" Nuts, ants ! " 

" I thought so, Uncle." 

" It is the larger ant-eater, or ant-bear. It fights by hug- 
ging. You will not need one for Arline," said Uncle Henry. 

" There would not be ants enough in our part of Milton to 
keep him alive. But look, my boy, the Indian women are 
coming on shore with their cages of parrots ! " 

Indeed they were. They were bearing wicker cages full 
of parrots. 

" Basketsful of parrots," said Leigh. " I wish Arline 
were here to see." 

The women were bareheaded, and were dressed in cheap 
fabrics of gay colors. Many of them had, beside their 
"basketsful" of parrots, macaws of enormous beaks and 
gorgeous plumage. 

They went on board the boat. It was much like a river 
steamer in the states. The lower deck was heaped with 
oranges, and every part of the boat was crowded with 
merchandise. 

Uncle Henry procured tickets, and secured rooms for a 
passage of the party to Rosario. 

The journey from Buenos Ayres up to the Parana was 
uneventful. There were no parrots or oranges on board, 
but a few Indians, and fewer interesting people. 

The banks of the river were lined with pampas-grass, 
very tall and feathery, into which dropped many kinds of 
birds, and out of which as many kinds of birds flew. Here 



1 82 OVER THE ANDES. 

and there were landings and huts, where no traveller would 
wish to be landed. 

The Frobishers spent only one night on board the steamer. 
Late the next afternoon Rosario appeared, gay with flags, 
for it was an anniversary day of some political event, and 
the city gayly celebrated its days of freedom. At such 
times the Argentine flags, the Italian flags, and the Swiss 
cross flags seemed to float everywhere. 

They landed from a lighter, and the city lay before them. 
They passed the cathedral and entered the plaza, and 
Alonzo studied the bullet-holes in some of the near build- 
ings, — the reminders of a late revolution. 

It seemed like an Italian city — as though a Vesuvian 
eruption had thrown up some square miles of Italy and 
dropped it down here. One of the first objects to arrest 
their feet in the street was the Masonic Temple, in front 
of which stood a fiery and heroic statue of Garibaldi. 

The statues in the city were those of the heroes of liberty, 
San Martin, and the men of the war for independence. 

They went to an old rambling hotel, called the Hotel 
English, attracted to it by its name. An orange-tree loaded 
with fruit and covered with flowers stood in the patio, or inner 
open room of the house. It was an old tree. When there 
was a breeze, the blossoms fell like snow, and filled all the 
rooms with odor. 

There were many English people at the hotel. The food 
was Spanish and well spiced, but it had the attraction of 
novelty. 

" Nobody can tell what they will bring on next," said 
Uncle Henry at the table. " Let us be thankful for variety, 



UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO. 1 83 

and ask no questions ; and, if we see anything that we do 
not wish, let us remember that it is the custom of the country, 
and eat on, even if we have to shut our eyes." 

But there was no need for them to shut their eyes. 
Flowers, as well as fruits, came upon the tables. The ser- 
vants were willing and polite, and coaches at the door were 
always ready for service. Leigh called the place the hotel 
of the orange-tree. Uncle Henry used his money with a 
prudent generosity, and they were very happy here. 

Their first visits were to the American and English 
schools. 

The reader may exclaim, " What ! are there American 
schools in Rosario, on the Parana?" 

Yes, the North American Normal School, under the 
direction of Madam Bishoff, numbers some five hundred 
pupils, and occupies very beautiful buildings and rooms. 
This lady came to the Argentina from the West in the days 
of Horace Mann, when Sarmiento's heart was out-flowing 
to establish the North American education here, after he 
had been the Argentine Minister of the United States for a 
time, and had met Charles Sumner and Horace Mann and 
Elizabeth Peabody. Sarmiento's study of the United States 
led him to the conclusion that " North America owes her 
greatness to her schools." 

He studied the subject more deeply and said, "The 
primary school is the foundation of national character." 

By the primary school he did not mean such schools as 
develop the memory alone, but those which have the Swiss 
foundation as well, which develop the spiritual faculties first, 
and whose end is a just and benevolent character. 



1 84 OVER tHE ANDES. 

The lady received the Frobishers into her charming 
home. She had been personally acquainted with the great 
Argentines, and she related many anecdotes of Sarmiento. 

Leigh chanced to walk out of the parlors on to a balcony 
overlooking the. patio that was surrounded by the schoolrooms. 

He was accosted by a very fat and pompous-looking 
parrot, who said in Spanish, — 

" I will cut you." 

He wished to shake hands with the voluptuous-looking 
bird, but she bowed and bowed, and said, — 

" I will cut you." 

Leigh glanced at her bill ; it looked suspicious, and he 
bowed himself back into the parlors. He had no wish to 
add this feathered treasure to his collection for Arline. 

They visited the school on another day. Madam assem- 
bled all of the pupils of the school in the patio, and the 
kindergarten presented them with violets, and all the schools 
sang the national anthem of Argentina. 

Another school in another part of the city was conducted 
by Miss Swaney. It was a benevolent and missionary enter- 
prise, and exhibited all the progressive ideas of modern educa- 
tion. This, too, had a kindergarten department ; but no parrot, 
so far as we know. This school also sang for the visitors 
the national song of Argentina, with the inspiration of pur- 
ple banners. 

Some of the Spanish pupils refused to sing the line of the 
song, — 

"At whose feet a lion lies dead." 

The " lion " in this line represents the Spanish rule in 
South America. 



UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO. 1 85 

Some of the pupils sang " The Star-Spangled Banner " 
in honor of their guests. Here was conscientious teaching, 
enterprise, and a lively sense of the demands of the times 
and spirit of the age. 

While at the normal school the Frobishers received an 
invitation, through the suggestions of Madam Bishoff, to visit 
the estancia California, at the distance of a few hours' 
ride by rail. This estancia is, we think, mentioned in one 
of the works of Madam Brassey. 

"Be careful," said their literary hostess; "you will find a 
lion in the dooryard." 

The South American lion or puma is a very dangerous beast. 

The tone of madam's warning did not sound alarming ; but 
her words certainly were. Was there really a lion running 
loose in the yard of the villa of the estancia ? 

The estancia was owned by a family by the name of 
Bernitz. Madam Bernitz had crossed the plains of the west- 
ern territories of the United States in her girlhood. She had 
arrived in California before the discovery of gold. She 
married, and the family accumulated a great fortune, when 
Mr. Bernitz was obliged to make a change of climate and 
condition on account of his failing health. Leaving a part 
of his property in California, and taking with him some 
sixty thousand dollars in gold, Mr. Bernitz with his wife and 
seven sons went to Argentina and purchased a great estate 
near Rosario, at a time when this part of the country was 
unsettled and the land was cheap. Here he built a villa, and 
a village-like place of residence for his work-people, or peons. 
He died not long after his settlement here, leaving to his 
wife and son the management of the estate. 



1 86 OVER THE ANDES. 

The party enjoyed the ride out of Rosario over the pampa 
to this delightful place. They passed beautiful houses and 
some immense estates on the way. 

The villa of Madam Bernitz at last appeared, something less 
than a mile from the depot, over the green fields of alfalfa. 
A carriage was waiting for them at the depot ; a warm wel- 
come met them there from one of the sons of the pioneer, and 
they were wheeled away to the bowery villa. 

There was but one principal thought in the minds of Alonzo 
and Leigh : it was that of the lion running about in the yard. 
A great cattle kingdom, for so we may call this estancia, rose 
before them. There may have been fifty thousand or more 
cattle, horses, and sheep on the estate ; they were told that 
the flock of sheep numbered more than ten thousand, — but 
what were all these to a lion in the yard ? 

Guanacos came into view, throwing up their heads ; ostriches 
were feeding in the great fields ; there was alfalfa, alfalfa, 
everywhere, — but what were all these animals, birds, and 
clover fields to a lion in the yard ? When one is expecting to 
be landed in a yard with a lion, one has only one thought. 
Leigh seemed to feel as though he were being carried to a 
Roman amphitheatre on a martyr's day in the times of the 
emperors. 

The carriage was driven up to the fence of the villa. How 
queer the yard looked ! Orange-trees and pepper-trees were 
there ; queer fowl, and parrots, not in cages but in the trees. 
Many horses saddled stood at the gate, ready for the use of 
any one who wished to gallop over the plains. Bright, happy 
people were passing unconcernedly about, — where was the 
lion ? 



UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO. 1 87 

They passed through the gate under the shadows of the 
twinkling pepper-trees. 

There he was. Surely it was so. He rose up from a place 
where he had been resting, under some trees near the oppo- 
site fence, stretched himself, opened his great jaws, and came 
towards the house. 

Leigh started back. 

" He won't hurt you," said Mr. Bernitz. " He caught a 
sheep this morning, — some of the flock chanced to stray into 
the yard. That is nothing; what is one sheep ? " 

One sheep, — it might not count for much in a flock of 
ten thousand ! 

"But, sir, I might be the next sheep," said Leigh. "I 
hope I would count for something. What do you think, 
Uncle Henry ? " 

" You surely would. I don't think that there are ten 
thousand Frobishers in all the world." 

Alonzo eyed the puma closely. 

" You wouldn't think that we once carried him about like 
a kitten," said Mr. Bernitz. 

Alonzo saw by the indifference of the people in the yard 
that somehow the lion was not dangerous to them. How ? 
He seemed to be loose, and he had caught a sheep that 
day. 

A closer view revealed the secret. There was a long, 
small, stout chain attached to a metal collar around the 
animal's neck. The grass hid the chain from view, and the 
fur the collar. But to what was the chain attached ? 

A further investigation showed that it was fastened to 
a long, strong wire, which was stretched among the rails on 



1 88 OVER THE ANDES. 

the fence. The lion could not go beyond his chain, and the 
chain would not allow him to reach the walk from the gate 
to the veranda. 

The villa was elegant, with all the arts and refinements of 
a suburban residence in the United States, or outside of 
Paris or London. 

Madam Bernitz was a delightful hostess. She made the 
party feel at once at home in her hospitable house. She 
took them to ride over the alfalfa lands. She was over 
sixty years of age, but she sometimes rode on horseback, 
for at her gate saddled horses were always waiting. 

The family owned a part in another great estancia in the 
Gran Chaco. 

As they were returning from the ride, madam said, — 

" Boys, if you like, I will ask my friends to-night to tell 
you some stories of adventure in the Chaco." 

The promise made the evening a pleasant one to look 
forward to. 

When they had again entered the yard, some strange birds 
came pecking at their heels. What were these ? They were 
told that they were serpent-eaters. 

" Give one of them a long stick," said madam. 

Leigh did so. The bird took it in his beak, threw its head 
back as if it had been hung on a hinge, and dashed the 
stick upon the ground with such violence that he would 
have killed it had it been a serpent. 

The evening came, — evening on the pampa, — and with 
it many stories, some of which we will relate in our own 
manner, but in the first person. 



UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO. 1 89 

TALES OF THE HACIENDA — THE RED OVEN-BIRD. 

The red oven-bird is the bird of the house and home. 
Like the swallow of the North and of Mexico, it seeks to 
share a part in the life of the family. All people who have 
an eye for what is sympathetic in the animal world love the 
red oven-bird. 

It builds its nest in the eaves of houses, about the out- 
houses and walls of the haciendas. The male bird is as 
true to its mate as ever a human heart was to a wife. I 
have heard a very beautiful story of the attachment of these 
birds. 

One of them made its oven nest near a granary which 
became infested with mice. A steel trap was set for the mice, 
and the bird alighted upon it, and was caught, the snapping 
of the trap breaking both its legs. 

The bird was released as soon as caught, and flew piti- 
fully back to her nest, and entered the oven to die. 

After she had died on her nest, the male came and called 
to her. She, of course, did not hear his call, and his cry 
became pitiful. He fluttered about the opening to the nest 
oven three clays, crying and trying to awaken the dead bird : 
then he went away. 

In a few days he returned with a mate. They did not 
seek to occupy the old nest, but to build a new one by its 
side. 

But before beginning to build the new nest, they brought 
earth and sticks and made a plaster, and sealed up the old 
nest in which the dead bird was, as though to make of it 
a tomb. The conduct of the birds seemed almost human. 






I90 OVER THE ANDES. 

ESCAPED. 

I was once out on the pampa, when my young dog came 
to me with something in his mouth. I took his head in my 
hand, and found that it was a little bird. Dogs do not 
usually molest these birds, but this one had found an easy 
prey, and he hoped to gain my approval by his smartness. 

I took the bird from his mouth. I saw that one of its 
legs was injured, and I pitied it, and put it inside of my 
hunting-shirt. I recalled that an English naturalist was 
visiting me and was out hunting, and I thought that I 
would keep the bird and show it to him. 

Towards evening, as I was returning home, I met the 
naturalist. 

" My friend," I said, " I have something to show you, - — 
nothing uncommon with us, but what may be interesting to 
you." 

I took from my bosom the bird. 

As I was about to hand it to the naturalist, it escaped 
and flew into the air. 

A hawk was passing, and pounced down upon it and 
seized it in its claws, at the sight of which the naturalist 
put up his fowling-piece and shot the hawk. 

The hawk came tumbling down, but without the bird. The 
latter flew away with a joyous note, and I hope she found 
her nest again, and was ever after unmolested and happy. 

Whenever I get entangled in my affairs, and everything 
seems working against me, and all means of escape appear to 
be closed, I always recall the little bird that I rescued from 
the dog, and that my English friend freed from the hawk. 



UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO. I9I 

The joyous cry in the air comes back to me — it was a 
parable. The poet may well have said, " Hope springs 
eternal in the human heart." 



THE STORY OF THE TALL RATTLER OF THE CHACO. 

If you will go into the room in the outbuilding where I 
keep my curiosities, you will find the skin of a very long 
rattlesnake — a tall snake as it first appeared to me — 
which I shot in the Gran Chaco. 

I am a part owner in a hacienda in the Gran Chaco, and 
I go there every year. I make the journey on horseback, 
and, as the way is a long one, I usually go on my favorite 
horse. 

Some years ago I set out for the floral wilderness on a 
young horse which I greatly valued. She was a beautiful 
animal, — a roan mare, — and I had so trained her that she 
would respond like a child to my voice. She was company 
for me. I never gave her a harsh word or struck her a 
blow. 

One evening after I entered the wilderness, I tethered 
her to a tree, and had lain down to rest. I recall how 
lonely all things seemed as the night came on. The wilder- 
ness grew still as the twilight faded and the night shadow 
fell. I kindled a fire, made some mate, and ate one of the 
lunches which had been prepared for me at home. 

As the stars came out, the stillness was broken. Wild 
beasts began to howl in the forests, and they seemed to 
answer each other. The night-birds cried in the trees. 

It was very hot ; poisonous insects filled the air ; all kinds 



I92 OVER THE ANDES. 

of creeping things seemed to surround me. I drew around 
me a netting, and lay down under a palm, and was sinking 
into oblivion, by the way of dreams, when something startled 
me. 

I heard the horse give a loud snort. I opened my eyes, 
and saw in the starlight that the head of the animal was 
stretched up strangely, with a giraffe-like motion into the air. 
She stood still. Then the same loud snort was repeated. 
I was afraid that some dangerous animal might be lurking 
near, and I started up. 

Presently I could see that the horse was trembling in 
every limb. 

What was there near ? What had happened ? 
She reeled. Why ? Presently she dropped down with a 
thud, stretched out her limbs, and never moved again. 

I threw off the net and went up to her. Her limbs were 
stiff ; her tongue lay outside of her mouth ; she was dying, 
or already dead. 

I seized my gun and looked around. There was nothing 
to be seen. 

I sunk down again and was filled with wonder and alarm. 
I had never met with any like adventure before. I could 
not sleep. About midnight I arose and examined the animal. 
She was dead and cold. I sunk into an unquiet sleep toward 
morning. When I awoke the red flush of morning was in 
the sky, and the air was filled with calls and cries of hosts 
of birds. 

I looked towards the horse. I had not dreamed that she 
was dead. She was laying there stiff and cold, with the 
indications that she had died in extreme pain. 



UP THE PARANA, ROSARIO. 1 93 

Early in the day, while I was preparing to go forward on 
foot in order to join another party who would be waiting for 
me at a fonda, there came up some Chaco Indians. They 
saw the dead horse, and stopped to cut some strips of "beef " 
from the haunches. 

They busied themselves in this way for a time, when one 
of them said, " Valve " (turn). 

Two of them seized the animal's legs, and were turning 
over the body in order to cut strips of meat from the other 
side, when suddenly a terrible object leaped into the air. 

I never shall forget the shock it gave me. The forked 
tongue, the eye of fire, the spiral motion, the attitude of chal- 
lenge and defiance. It was the tallest rattlesnake that I 
ever saw. 

One of the Indians at once severed its head from its 
body with a machete. The form tumbled into a heap, and 
the Indians examined the place where the horse had lain. 

The snake had bitten the horse on the nose as she was 
feeding. She had turned around so that when she dropped 
she fell upon the rattler in such a way as to imprison him in 
a hollow in the ground which was filled with a network of 
dead roots and living vines. The snake had been released 
from this curious prison when the body of the horse was 
moved. 

I secured the skin of this immense serpent as a curiosity. 
You may find it in my museum when you will. 

All of these stories are substantially true, 
o 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CATTLE DOCTOR OF THE GRAN CHACO. 

THE Gran Chaco, a great wilderness on the north of the 
pampas in Argentina, is nature's wonderland : a vast 
menagerie of beasts and birds ; a wild, semi-tropical garden 
of palms, fruits, and flowers. It stretches beyond northern 
Argentina into Bolivia. It is the favorite resort of the 
adventurous hunters of the South, both Argentine and Eng- 
lish. The naturalist here finds his paradise. There is noth- 
ing like it in the world. 

Strange tales are told of this wild region in which Nature 
has her own way. These relate to the pumas, the serpents, 
the inquisitive birds, and to the wandering Indians. But 
the legends of the allots are stranger than these. 

What are the ahots ? 

The Chaco Indians do not worship any God. They 
believe in spirits. When a man dies, they think that his 
spirit enters into another man, such as he himself was, and 
acts through his body, and more or less controls him. If the 
spirit be an evil one, it impels the one obsessed to acts 
of evil. In this way the good become better, and the bad 
worse. A man might have one, or more than one, familiar 
spirit of this kind. 

194 



THE CATTLE DOCTOR OF THE GRAN CHACO. 1 95 

These are called "earth spirits," or ahots : spirits that live 
in the earth, or that hover near it, of a low order, loving 
evil, and tempting those in whom they make their dwelling 
to evil. 

Now, according to these Indians, no attention need be 
paid to good spirits, since good produces good, and in good- 
ness is no harm. But to know how to resist the influences 
of evil spirits is the essential thing in religion, and the 
wizard priests who can do this are benefactors. 

For in their fancy, the ahots (nasal h, with a sneering 
twang) are everywhere. They live in subterranean caverns ; 
they wander in the wilderness at night ; they ride on the 
winds; they cause evil imaginations, sickness, and death. 

The ahots, or departed spirits, live near the place where 
they dwell in the flesh. Hence the Chaco Indians hold 
religious rites at the tombs of their dead. 

The curious feature of this religion is the bit of philosophi- 
cal lore, — that that which is good can do no harm, and need 
not be heeded, — an utterly false conception, but one that 
seems very reasonable to the poor Indians' minds. 

" Uncle Henry," said Arline, still hugging her parrot, 
"it is not all birds and butterflies and orchids in South 
America. Tell us one of the other kind of stories : a story 
of the ahots." Arline gave a little sneer on the letter h, 
trying to imitate her uncle's pronunciation of the word, and 
Loro cried out, "Nada ! " 

Uncle Henry did not altogether approve of ahot stories ; 
but he could not say " No " to Arline, and so he related a 
tale which he called 



I96 OVER THE ANDES. 

THE LITTLE OLD CATTLE DOCTOR OF THE GRAN CHACO. 

There are large estancias on the Gran Chaco. 

" What do you mean by estancias, Uncle ? " This inter- 
lude was from Arline, and Loro was listening. 

An estancia is like a great American farm, a Western ranch ; 
in Argentina it is a little cattle kingdom with a village of 
work-people — peons. 

" What are peons, Uncle ? " This, too, from Arline, and 
Loro seemed equally interested. 

Peons are poor people who labor for a living, — laborers, 
commonly, but not always country people. 

Over these solitary estancias roam thousands of cattle, and 
here the cattle-raiser lives, and sometimes grows rich, like 
the patriarchs of old. 

I was once invited to make a visit to one of these estancias 
in the Cbaco solitude, on the Vermejo, or Vermilion, or Crim- 
son River. There had been a season of dryness, followed by 
recent light rains, and when I came to the place, I found 
my host, Sefior Matteo, in trouble, because a large number of 
his cattle had fallen sick. 

One day Senor Matteo and some peons went down the Crim- 
son River to see some sick cattle ; he evidently found the con- 
dition there serious, for he did not return at night, and I found 
myself in the casa or house all alone, except an Indian cook. 

I was sitting in a roof-room, where it was cool, hoping for 
the return of Matteo, when I suddenly heard a pounding on 
the lower door. It was repeated. The cook came up to my 
room with a light, around which insects were swarming. He 
was trembling. 



THE CATTLE DOCTOR OF THE GRAN CHACO. I 97 

" Go to the door ! " I said. 

His eyes enlarged. 

" I saw him ! " 

" Who ? " 

" The wizard — the doctor." 

" Go and let him in." 

" You go, Senor." 

I started up, and went down the narrow stairs. 

The pounding was repeated very slowly, causing some un- 
known bats or birds to fly about the entry in the shadows. 

" Quien esf" said I. (Who are you?) 

"Hue, hue, hue! Amigo. Hee, hee, hee ! Amigo. Hi, 
hi, hi ! Ainigo." 

It was a strange answer. The old Indian cook stood be- 
hind him, his eyes turning white. 

"The cattle wizard," he said, in a choking voice, — "he 
has come to cure the cattle." 

There came another pounding at the door, causing it to 
shake. 

" Que queriendo ?" I answered. (What do you want ?) 

" Hue, hue, hue ! " 

I opened the door, when one of the strangest looking be- 
ings that I ever saw stood in the pale lamplight. 

" Senor Matteo ? " 

" No, a guest of Senor; English — Americano" 

He came in, as one in a kind of dream. The cook lighted 
the hall, and the dark creature groped about as if absently 
for a time, and then sat down in a shadowy corner and began 
to talk earnestly, but in a far-away tone, with the cook. 

The wizard priest, or medicine-man, had come to say that 



I98 OVER THE ANDES. 

he had received communications from the ahots, or ground 
spirits, that he could cure Senor Matteo's cattle. The cook 
became greatly excited at this news, and went up to the 
upper balcony, and began to blow a horn. 

Presently, I heard outside a pounding on the ground. I 
went to the door, and found a tall boy there. He ceased 
pounding, but taking up some dry gourds, in which there 
were some seeds, began to shake them. He was the son of 
the medicine-man. His father was too old to leap, and as 
high leaping was a part of the method of curing disease, he 
accompanied his father, to make effective this part of the 
mystic ceremony. 

In the night, Senor Matteo and the peons came home, and 
were surprised to find the wizard there. The latter went out 
to meet him. 

"Hew, hew, hew!" or " heu, heu, heu ! " he began to ex- 
claim. "The ahots speak — the ahots are crying up from 
the ground. Take me to the cattle; they shall all live 
again." 

Matteo welcomed the wizard, as though the man indeed 
were a prophet. 

" It cannot be that you believe in the doctor ? " said I. 

"You shall see in the morning," said he. 

Very early in the gray of the morning, Matteo, the doctor, 
the doctor's son, and some peons started towards the cattle 
ranges. Matteo asked me to accompany him, and I did so, 
full of curiosity. 

The red light of the dawn was rising over the wilderness ; 
afar we heard the cries of strange animals : here was the 
territory of the wild horse; the jaguar, or the American 



THE CATTLE DOCTOR OF THE GRAN CHACO. I 99 

tiger; the puma, or cougar, or American lion; the wild ostrich, 
and of birds innumerable. The bushes were full of life as 
we rode along, and the banks of the Vermilion River seemed 
abloom with the wings of many colored birds. 

There was a morning stillness in the high air. A fiery- 
day was looming over the long stretches of wood. Beasts 
and birds appeared to know that it was coming. 

The range where the sick cattle were opened at last before 
us. I was shocked at the sight that it revealed. There 
were dead cattle all along the banks of the stream, and 
swollen cattle yet living, mingled among them. The living 
cattle did not move. 

The range was covered with patches of green, tender grass 
that had come up after a dry season, in the first period of rain. 
It was evident that the cattle had been eating this freely ; 
might it not have had something to do with the sick- 
ness ? 

The sun was now rising, making the river indeed ver- 
milion. 

The doctor walked about among the cattle, lamenting that 
so many should have died. He then spake to his tall son, 
who had bells about his feet, and bells and ostrich feathers 
about his forehead. The tall boy lifted the rattling gourds, 
and began to leap. 

At this the doctor went to one of the sick animals, and 
uttered a sudden cry. The animal leaped upon his feet. 
He went to another animal and did the same, beating upon 
the ground. The same result followed. 

" Hue, hue, hue ! " he said, shaking his head. " So many 
should not have died ! " 



200 OVER THE ANDES. 

Another and another animal, lying swollen and motion- 
less on the ground, leaped up at the same cry, as if by a 
miracle. 

The doctor drove these animals before him, among the 
other sick animals, now and then beating the ground, cry- 
ing, "Hi, hi, hi!" His son came leaping after him, shak- 
ing his gourds. Soon all the living animals were in motion. 
They rose up as from the dead on all sides. How had this 
happened ? Was it indeed the work of the ahots ? 

I asked the English Consul on the Parana these questions. 
His solution was simple : — 

" The cattle had eaten a kind of grass which, when it is 
new, causes them to swell, and some of them to die. The 
doctor knew at what time the dangerous stage of the dis- 
ease would be past, and that all the cattle that passed 
that stage would be likely to recover. All that was needed 
was to make an excitement to put them upon their feet 
again. He was a kind of hypnotist. He scared up a few 
of the animals that were at the point of recovery, and they 
excited the rest that were in a like condition, and sent new 
life into them. The ahot doctors are as cunning as are 
any other traders in superstition. The miracle was per- 
formed in some such way. The ahots, if there were such 
beings, had nothing to do with the cure." 

In the Gran Chaco almost everything remains as it was 
in the days of the primitive world. You should see a single 
morning there, and hear the sounds of the beasts and the 
birds. There are estancias there, it is true, but there has 
been little progress there since the times of the explorers 
of the Banda Oriental. 



THE CATTLE DOCTOR OF THE GRAN CHACO. 201 

"What, Uncle Henry, was the Banda Oriental?" So 
asked Arline, and the parrot looked as if she wanted to 
know. 

" The Oriental Band, or the eastern boundary of a part 
of old Brazil, or ancient Uruguay. It is now called Uru- 
guay." 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 

WHEN Our Boys returned to Rosario, they met several 
old pioneers at the English hotel. From them they 
learned many curious things about the old-time inhabitants 
of the pampas of the South Temperate Zone and of the 
wild South Coast. 

Arline spent several days in the hospitalities of the direc- 
tor of the North American Normal School. Strange as it 
may seem, she again read here " Life in the Argentine," 
written in Spanish by Sarmiento, and translated by Mrs. 
Horace Mann, a sister of Miss Elizabeth Peabody, whose 
opinions of life and character had entered so largely into 
her own. She made the original book in Spanish, under the 
title of " Facundo Quiroga," her text-book in acquiring the 
language. 

We must give our readers the results of some of these 
talks at the hotel, and of Arline's studies. We hope that 
some other traveller may like to follow some of the studies 
which Arline's course may suggest, and to find the general 
facts which we present useful as a means of general informa- 
tion. We must acknowledge our indebtedness to that mar- 
vellous book, which, in North America, found its way into 
the public out of Arline's own circle of old home friends, — 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 203 

"Life in the Argentine." This book is almost an epic poem 
the Virgil of Argentina. 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANT AND FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

The cape countries of South America have two of the 
most curious races of men. One of these, the Patagonian 
giants, used to be fabled to be twelve feet high. This was 
due largely to the suggestions made to the imagination by 
Sindbads among the sailors ; but men eight feet high have 
been met among these tall people, and many of the inhabit- 
ants of Patagonia are seven feet high. They are Titans 
among men, — the tallest of human beings; and the early 
voyagers thought that they were a race of Cyclops indeed. 

The Patagonia of history is some eight hundred miles 
long and two hundred wide, and as large as the Republic of 
France. The giants inhabit the plain. It is a land of the 
puma and desert ostrich, and vultures and eagles sail the air. 
It is also the land of one of the most useful, timid, and curious 
of all animals, the guanaco. 

The guanaco is a camel sheep, allied to the llama, alpaca, 
and vicuna. It roams in herds over the vast deserts and 
plains. It furnishes the giants clothing, food, and compan- 
ionship. The Patagonian wears a guanaco fur over his 
shoulders ; he feeds upon his flesh, and he pets him in his 
family. 

The wild guanaco is very timid and very wary. An old 
male watches upon a hill for intruders, when the herd feeds. 
The hunters capture them in herds by surrounding them 
and throwing them into confusion. 



204 OVER THE ANDES. 

The flesh of the guanaco and the eggs of the ostrich are 
a part of the food of the giants, and hunting the guanaco is 
the common occupation in this vast territory. 

The poor guanaco is accustomed to see a tall man and his 
horse together, and looks upon the two as a kind of centaur. 

If the tall man will leap from his horse, and leave him out 
of sight, he may sometimes as easily approach the beautiful 
creature as if he were an ostrich ; for after the instinct of 
the camel sheep, the man is the harmless part of this strange 
being that hunts him, and runs him down, and throws a 
bolas at him, and roasts his flesh, and wears his skin. 

The guanaco, when tame, is a very gentle and sociable 
animal ; but woe to him who offends him : he spouts from 
his nose a great quantity of disagreeable fluid over him with 
an air of triumph, which never fails to be followed by an 
air of humiliation in him who receives the malodorous 
sprinkling. 

In strange contrast to the Patagonian giants are the 
dwarfs of Tierra del Fuego, or the Land of Fire. Their 
land lies nearest of any large territory to the South Pole. 
It is a congeries of many islands broken by arms of the sea. 
Some of these islands are mountains, and this chain of 
mountain islands runs in the direction of Cape Horn, of which 
it forms a part. They are the Andes of the sea, which end 
at Cape Horn. 

It is called a land of fire ; but it is a land of cold, and of 
cold water. The Spaniards, in the days of the discovery, 
beheld fires on the coast at night, and so named the place 
Tierra del Fuego. 

The Fuegian stands at the foot of the human race, — the 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 205 

lowest in the scale of humanity. He is between four and 
five feet high ; his hair is tangled and hangs in ropes about 
his neck. His only clothing is a fur skin, fastened by a 
skewer. He has no hat or shoes ; he roams in his canoe in 
bitter cold weather, bareheaded and barefooted. 

His wife is shorter than himself, — a little girl in size, and 
an otter skin, or some like small blanket of fur, is her only 
protection against the cold weather. 

These people have an evil look, and are as ferocious as they 
appear. 

They not only kill their enemies, but eat them. Their 
food is chiefly shell-fish. 

The Fuegian's house is merely a den built with no more 
skill than an otter's, — without utensils, except a bag for 
water. His bed is grass. He has no table or chair. He 
lives on the shore, and feeds on the coast. He travels 
along the coast in the high winds, carrying his canoe on 
his back. 

But how does he procure fire, from which he receives his 
name in the civilized world ? 

There is an ore called commonly iron pyrites, which is 
found in the sides of the gloomy mountains. If this ore be 
struck by a pebble, it will emit a spark. He dries moss for 
tinder, and when the spark falls upon it and is fanned it 
produces a flame. This is conveyed to dry grass, and thence 
to fuel. There is one thing that is sacred to the Fuegian — 
it is his fire. But with their sacred fires, they have no relig- 
ion except a belief in devils. They eat their food raw. 
Their festival day is that when a whale drifts dead upon 
the beach. 



206 OVER THE ANDES. 

Queerest of all, they have little sea-dogs that hunt fish in 
the sea and drive them into a shallow. 

He is said never to wash his face, hands, or body, and 
probably he never has heard that water was made for such 
a purpose. Truly, one would not seek for a bride in Miss 
Tierra del Fuego until there is a larger development of 
missionary work in the corners of the world. 

THE GAUCHOS. 

The Gauchos, or the native inhabitants of the pampas, 
have the fierce aspect of tradition, but are picturesque in 
their lingering barbarism. They wear ponchos, or immense 
shawls, with an opening in the middle through which to put 
their heads. These are of bright and lively colors. They 
are choice in the colors of their horses, of which a large 
number are roan and piebald, and are curiously marked. 
The Gaucho, or Goucho, at a distance on a horse looks like 
one flying. He seems like an inhabitant of the regions of 
the air. 

The poetic horseman is passing away. So are the ani- 
mals of the once sea-like expanse of pampas-grass. Herds 
of small deer used to be seen everywhere, and solitary 
ostriches among the enormous thistle fields, into which, if 
one were to wander, he would become lost. 

If the horses seem to fly over the pampas, what shall we 
say of the ostriches that outrun them ? As they used to be 
greatly hunted for feathers, how were they caught ? 

The Argentine ostrich hunter provides himself with two 
leaden balls covered with hide, and attached to a long 




HUNTING THE RHEA OR SOUTH AMERICAN OSTRICH. 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 20J 

string, or lasso, or plaited thong. On his swift horse, he 
approaches the ostrich in such a way as to put the bird to 
a disadvantage. When he apprcches near the running 
bird, he whirls the balls around his head, and throws them 
so that they will strike the bird's legs and twist around them. 
Truly, the poor ostrich then finds that the race is not to the 
swift. It tumbles helplessly in all of its pride, and is plucked 
of its plumes. Alas, how often a self-sufficient life gets 
tripped up in this manner ! 

The whole pampas land was once populoi . with a curious 
little animal called in Spanish the biscacho, a kind of badger. 
The animal burrows and leaves great holes in the earth, 
which used to make travelling dangerous before the greater 
emigrations and the advent of steam. The careful horse may 
fall into them. They tunnel, as it were, the earth. 

This little badger recalls the jack-raK 'ts on the prairies of 
North America. He does not wand far from his hole in 
the ground. He comes out of the e. rth towards evening to 
feed, uttering an unmusical sound, yet one probably intended 
to be cheerful, as he keeps fat. His good condition is his 
misfortune, for he cannot run fr.st. As he is excellent food, 
he is easily caught when he wanders away from his burrow. 
He is run down, when he turns and makes a last fight for 
his little life. He has om watchful friend in the small owls, 
which in some places seem to be almost as thick as grass- 
hoppers. These great-eyed little birds sit on the little 
mounds of earth thrown up by the biscacho, and gaze at the 
hunters with wonder. They seem to be staring at the world, 
and to be waiting for the advent of some Darwin of their 
species to tell them what it is all about. Owl-land is wonder- 



208 OVER THE ANDES. 

land. The owls and badgers seem to seek the great natural 
gardens of wild melons for the place of their abode. There 
are whole cities of them in these places, as populous as New 
York, or possibly London. 

The wild pampas is the lurking-place of partridges and 
quails. Lizards are to be found everywhere, and in certain 
years and seasons grasshoppers cover the earth. In plague 
years they devour everything green before them. They 
come in armies, and disappear, leaving the earth bare as 
though burned by a fire. 

But the most interesting animal of the pampas, to the 
native or stranger, is the armadillo. He attracts the eye, 
and his flesh is greatly esteemed for food. 

The animal is toothless, or has only feeble teeth. It has 
a long, smooth tongue covered with glutinous saliva; this 
it darts out in such a way as to draw in insects for its 
food. 

Like the pampa badger, it burrows, and when it is pursued, 
or finds itself in danger, it digs down into the soft earth, almost 
as rapidly as a fish dives into the sea. 

But what excites the curiosity of the stranger is its armor. 
In this it differs from most other animals. It is covered with 
bony plates, and goes forth like an armed knight. 

The largest species are some three feet long, but these are 
small in comparison with those that once existed, and whose 
armors are among the wonders of fossil remains. 

In the clear air -of the pampas circles the condor, so 
wondrous and majestic in the distance, so unsightly when 
near. 

As the horseman flies over the narrow lanes or roads of 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 2O9 

the pampas, animals, birds, and insects mount up on every 
hand. 

The mighty plains are a great ocean of life. The flower 
land, the thistle land, the grass land, all beat with life. 

When the storms arise, the storms of dirt, of wind and 
rain, of wreck and ruin, these inhabitants of the earth's sur- 
face seek shelter in the earth, or in the gigantic vegetation. 

Who could ever compute the number of these inhabitants 
of the plains, susceptible to joyous life, trodden under foot of 
the horses, and for the most part no more regarded by man 
than minnows ! 

THE BEE HUNTER OF THE GRAN CHACO. 

The Gran Chaco, that immense tropical garden abounding 
in palm forests which are full of blooming vines, and in 
pampa-like meadows which are full of flowers, is divided by 
the river Parana, and walled on the north by the Peruvian 
Alps, and bounded on the south by the pampas. 

This primitive region, of which we have already spoken, 
is some two hundred thousand square miles in extent, and 
has twice the territory of the British Isles. The Paraguay 
River runs to the Parana, and the Parana to the Rio de la 
Plata, and this broad river to the sea. The Parana pene- 
trates the Gran Chaco, which the Spanish and Portuguese 
have claimed as their territory, but in which the red Indian 
roams free. 

All honor to his native valor, and high and independent 
spirit, the red Indian holds the great floral wilderness. The 
Spaniard has never been able to conquer him. He is still a 



2IO OVER THE ANDES. 

lord of the earth, and the horse's back is his home, and he 
knows the trails of a thousand miles. 

He lives to be old, very old. He is young at fifty, and r he 
may be in the prime of life at seventy, and active as ever at 
eighty. Many of these Indians live to be a hundred, and 
some to a hundred and ten, and even to a hundred and twenty, 
if we may trust their own traditions. 

Why do they live to be so old ? We may answer, — a free 
life on horseback in the open air, and a vegetable diet, or a 
diet of fruits and the flesh of vegetable-eating animals. 

There is one luxury that these Indians enjoy that is found 
nowhere else in the world. In the palm region full of 
flowers, that even the botanist does not know, where the vines 
are hung with parasite-like orchid blooms, and where the 
orange-trees grow wild, there are innumerable insects of 
bright colors, flowers of the air, and bees that are stingless. 
These stingless bees produce the sweetest honey. But the 
bees that have no poisonous stings seem to make up for this 
want of defence by hiding their stores of honey. The honey 
hunter must be a very observing and skilful man. He goes 
about without beard or eyebrows, for he thinks that he can 
see better without eyebrows, and that clear vision is essential 
to his curious life. 

He has no saddle for his horse, and he wears no clothing 
but a cloth about his loins, and at a distance, as Mayne Reid 
has shown, he looks like a man-horse, or centaur. 

In search of the stores of the honey of the stingless bee, 
he goes on foot. 

Let us follow him. All alone in this vast region of flowers, 
which no eye sees, he espies a single bee. The insect is as 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 2 1 1 

harmless as a fly, and he wings from flower to flower until 
he is heavy with his store. Where is his nest ? The Indian 
follows him at a little distance, keeping upon him his eye- 
browless eye. 

The bee zigzags. From one sweet flower he passes to 
another, for he seems to be a chemist, and to know how to 
mingle his stores. 

But at last, unable to sustain the weight of any more pol- 
len, he mounts into the air, and makes a bee-line for his treas- 
ure house, which may be the hollow of some large tree where 
monkeys gibber and parrots scream. 

But as heavily laden as he is, he flies swiftly, and the clear- 
sighted hunter has to be nimble of foot. 

Now the bee has escaped his eye, but the hunter knows 
the bee-line. He has only need to be true to this bee-line to 
come upon the golden treasure ; the only danger of his losing 
it is that he may pass it by, for the bee gives little outside 
sign of his storehouse. 

He comes to a gigantic tree. He sees no hollow in the 
trunk. But some of the branches seem unusually large and 
distended. His keen eye sees that half of these branches 
are virgin honey, and that he has only to swing himself up 
to them to gather it. 

He breaks these branches from which the richest honey 
in all the world pours down like rain. If he were to carry 
his honey to a Spanish town, he would receive a large sum of 
money for it, for there is no other honey like this. But what 
does he want of money ? he weighs the trouble against the 
money in his mind, and chooses his ease. 

It may be that he will find the honey in some cavern of 



212 OVER THE ANDES. 

the earth. There may be great stores of it there. If so, he 
takes what he needs, and leaves the rest to its owners. 

Or the bee may be a toscina ; if so, its nest is on a cactus 
plant, and of all the sweet honey makers of the Gran Chaco, 
or the world, its honey is the sweetest and best. 

The bee hunter goes back to his family, and shares it with 
them. They have made St. John's bread from the flour of 
nuts for his return, and a drink of sugary sap. This with 
game makes a rich and healthful meal. 

The palm nuts pounded or grated supply abundant bread. 
They have only to be gathered to be prepared for food. 

In this simple, pastoral way live the Indians of the Gran 
Chaco, and among their many easy employments in a region 
of eternal spring, the bee hunter would seem to have the most 
delightful of all, as the honey that he gathers is the most 
delicious of the productions of the earth, and as the bees 
that make it do not sting. 

It became Uncle Henry's wish to secure some of these 
stingless queen bees, and take them back to the states. 

" I could accomplish this," he said, " if the bees could en- 
counter the cold of the Upper Andes. It would be hard for 
them, if we were to meet with a snowstorm on La Cumbre." 

Uncle Henry secured some of the Chaco bees, and had 
especial hives made of light material, with which to transport 
them. 

THE RASTREADOR. 

In the account of this strange character, the Argentine 
detective, we follow Sarmiento, and largely Mrs. Mann's 
translation : — 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 213 

" I once happened to turn out of a by-way into the Buenos 
Ayres road, and my guide, following the usual practice, cast 
a look at the ground. ' There was a very nice little Moorish 
mule in that train,' said he, directly. ' D. N. Zapata's it 
was. She is good for the saddle, and it is very plain she 
was saddled this time ; they went by yesterday.' The 
man was travelling from the Sierra de San Luis, while the 
train had passed on its way from Buenos Ayres, and it was 
a year since he had seen the Moorish mule, whose track 
was mixed up with those of a whole train in a path two feet 
wide. And this seemingly incredible tale only illustrates 
the common degree of skill. The guide was a mere herds- 
man, and no professional rastreador." In this picturesque 
way Sarmiento introduces to us this plainsman. 

" The rastreador proper is a grave, circumspect person- 
age, whose declarations are considered conclusive evidence 
in the inferior courts. Consciousness of the knowledge he 
possesses gives him a certain reserved and mysterious dig- 
nity. Every one treats him with respect : the poor man, 
because he fears to offend one who might injure him by 
a slander or an accusation ; and the proprietor, because of 
the possible value of his testimony. A theft has been com- 
mitted during the night ; no one knows anything of it ; the 
victims of it hasten to look for one of the robber's foot- 
prints, and, on finding it, they cover it with something to 
keep the wind from disturbing it. They then send for the 
rastreador, who detects the track, and follows it, only occa- 
sionally looking at the ground, as if his eyes saw in full 
relief the footsteps invisible to others. He follows the 
course of the streets, crosses gardens, enters a house, and, 



214 OVER THE ANDES. 

pointing to a man whom he finds there, says coldly, ' That 
is he ! ' The crime is proved, and the criminal seldom 
denies the charge. In his estimation, even more than in 
that of the judge, the rastreador's deposition is a positive 
demonstration. It would be ridiculous and absurd to dis- 
pute it. The culprit, accordingly, yields to a witness, whom 
he regards as the finger of God pointing him out. I have 
had some acquaintance myself with Calibar, who has prac- 
tised his profession for forty consecutive years in one prov- 
ince. He is now about eighty years old, and of a venerable 
and dignified appearance, though bowed down by age. 
When his fabulous reputation is mentioned to him, he 
replies, ' I am good for nothing now : there are the boys ! ' 
The ' boys,' who have studied under so famous a master, are 
his sons. The story is that his best horse-trappings were 
once stolen while he was absent on a journey to Buenos 
Ayres. His wife covered one of the thief's footprints with 
a tray. Two months afterwards Calibar returned, looked at 
the footprint, which by that time had become blurred, and 
could not have been made out by other eyes, after which he 
spoke no more of the circumstance. A year and a half 
later, Calibar might have been seen walking through a 
street in the outskirts of the town, with his eyes on the 
ground. He turned into a house, where he found his trap- 
pings, by that time blackened by use, and nearly worn out. 
He had come upon the trail of the thief nearly two years 
after the robbery. 

"In 1830 a criminal, under sentence of death, having 
escaped from prison, Calibar was employed to search for 
him. The unhappy man, aware that he would be tracked, 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 215 

had taken all the precautions suggested to him by the image 
of the scaffold ; but they were taken in vain. Perhaps they 
only assured his destruction ; for as Calibar's reputation was 
hazarded, his jealous self-esteem made him ardent in accom- 
plishing a task which would demonstrate the wonderful 
sharpness of his sight, though it insured the destruction of 
another man. The fugitive had left as few traces as the 
nature of the ground would permit. He had crossed whole 
squares on tiptoe ; afterwards he had leaped upon low walls ; 
he had turned back after crossing one place ; but Calibar 
followed without losing the trail. If he missed the way for 
a moment, he found it again, exclaiming, ' Where are you ? ' 
Finally, the trail entered a watercourse in the suburbs, in 
which the fugitive had sought to elude the rastreador. In 
vain ! Calibar went along the bank without uneasiness or 
hesitation. At last he stops, examines some plants, and 
says, ' He came out here ; there are no footprints ; but these 
drops of water on the herbage are the sign ! ' On coming 
to a vineyard, Calibar reconnoitred the mud-walls around 
it, and said, ' He is in there.' The party of soldiers looked 
until they were tired, and came back to report the failure of 
the search. ' He has not come out,' was the only answer of 
the rastreador, who would not even take the trouble to make 
a second investigation. In fact, he had not come out, but 
he was taken and executed the next day. 

"In 183 1 some political prisoners were planning an 
escape : all was ready, and outside help had been secured. 
On the point of making the attempt, ' What shall be done 
about Calibar ? ' asked one. ' To be sure, Calibar ! ' said the 
others in dismay. Their relations prevailed upon Calibar to 



2l6 OVER THE ANDES. 

be ill for four full days after the escape, which was thus 
without difficulty effected. 

"What a mystery is this of the rastreador ! What micro- 
scopic power is developed in the visual organs of these men ! 
How sublime a creature is that which God made in his image 
and likeness ! " 

THE SOUTH AMERICAN TYRANTS QUIROGA THE TIGER. 

In the period between barbarism and republican civiliza- 
tion in South America, there arose three tyrants, who have a 
strange history, and who came to an evil end. They seem 
to have been born with a kind of majestic power over men, 
an influence they used for evil. They were intensely selfish, 
vain, and cruel ; they loved power and money, and they 
sought each to enable them to gratify their own passions. 
Their lives illustrated the truths, that to be "carnally minded 
is death," that " men make a law unto themselves of what 
they themselves are, and that the violent man will be pur- 
sued by violence, and that he who takes up the sword will 
perish by the sword." 

The first of these tyrants, who was a human beast, but 
who had withal a love of liberty, and a desire to emancipate 
the plains from the tyranny of their past conditions of en- 
slavement, was Juan Facundo Ouiroga, a poetic and romantic 
name which became changed to the "Tiger of the Pampas," 
■ — ■ a man who drew the plainsmen after him like the wind, 
and whose will made the old Spanish cities tremble. He 
was a Gaucho or Goucho, or a man of the pampas or plains. 
His home was the saddle, and his spirit was fire. 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 2\J 

Why was he called the Tiger? After a bloody encounter 
with another Gaucho in his early days, he fled to a desert 
near San Juan, under the Andes, called Traversia, with his 
riding gear on his shoulders. He was an outlaw. 

In this desert there was a man-eating tiger. When a tiger 
has once tasted human flesh, nothing can restrain his passion 
for it. This tiger had killed eight men, and was ever on the 
watch for other men to kill. He followed the track of all 
that crossed the desert. He was what was called "the 
Man-eater." 

When the outlaw, Facundo Ouiroga, had traversed some 
six leagues of the desert, carrying his hunting gear with him, 
in the hope of securing a swift horse, he heard a wild screech 
behind him, and knew the voice to be that of a tiger. But no 
animal was to be seen. But the sound came again, a venge- 
ful roar, boding destruction. Then it came again — nearer. 

Ouiroga looked around for a place of escape. On every 
hand was the desert. Only one object arose out of the wild 
waste, — it was a small carob-tree. Ouiroga ran towards the 
tree, throwing down his riding gear. He climbed into the top 
of the tree, and there saw the tiger madly approaching, snuff- 
ing the earth and roaring at the scent. He circled around 
the place, saw the riding gear, and shook it to pieces. 

He discovered his prey in the tree. The carob-tree was 
old, it had a decayed trunk, and it rocked to and fro. If the 
beast were to leap into the tree, it might topple it over. Qui- 
roga saw that he was in deadly peril, with but small prospect 
of his escape. 

The tiger crouched under the tree, as preparing to leap, 
his eyes red with fury, and his tail lashing the earth. He 



2l8 OVER THE ANDES. 

fixed his gaze upon the Gaucho, and exerted a fascination 
upon him which caused him to begin to lose self-control. 

But there were dark objects seen in the distance, flying as 
it were through the air. They were horsemen. They saw 
the shattered saddle, and so were directed to descry the man 
in the tree. They threw their lassos over the tiger, and so 
Ouiroga escaped. " At that moment," he said, " I knew what 
it was to be afraid." 

He himself became what was called the " Tiger of the 
Llanos." His career began in being hunted by a tiger; he 
himself hunted men like a tiger, and at last was hunted as a 
tiger is hunted of men. 

Sarmiento, in his " Facundo Ouiroga," or as we have the 
book in English, " Life in the Argentine," as translated by 
Mrs. Horace Mann, gives the following view of the life of 
this Gaucho chieftain : — 

" Facundo Ouiroga was the son of an inhabitant of San 
Juan, who had settled in the llanos of La Rioja, and there 
had acquired a fortune in pastoral pursuits. In 1779 
Facundo was sent to his father's native province to receive 
the limited education, consisting only in the arts of reading 
and writing, which he could acquire in its schools. After a 
man has come to employ the hundred trumpets of fame with 
the noise of his deeds, curiosity or the spirit of investigation 
is carried to such an extent as to scent out the insignificant 
history of the child, in order to connect it with the biography 
of the hero ; and it is not seldom that the rudiments of the 
traits, characteristic of the historical personage, are met amid 
fables invented by flattery. The young Alcibiades is said 
to have lain down at full length upon the pavement of the 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 2IO, 

street where he was playing, in order to insist that the driver 
of an approaching vehicle should yield the way to avoid run- 
ing over him. Napoleon is reported to have ruled over his 
fellow-students, and to have intrenched himself in his study 
to resist apprehended insult. 

"On the Godoy farm in San Juan are shown to this day 
mud-walls of Quiroga's treading ; there are others in Fiam- 
bala, in La Rioja, made by him. He himself pointed out 
others in Mendoza, in the very place where one afternoon he 
had twenty-six of the officers, who surrendered at Chacon, 
dragged from their horses and shot to avenge Villifane. 

■ ' He also showed some monuments of his wandering life 
of labor in the country districts of Buenos Ayres. What 
motives induced this man, brought up in a respectable family, 
son of a man of means and of creditable life, to descend to a 
hireling's position, and moreover to select the dullest and 
most brutish kind of work, needing only bodily strength and 
endurance ? Was it because the labor of building these 
mud-walls is recompensed with double wages, and that he 
was in haste to get together a little money ? " 

This man became the leader of the Gauchos, or plains- 
men, of Argentina, and practically the dictator of the wild 
country in the period between the liberation and founding of 
a civilized republic. The people made a hero of him. Why ? 
Simply because he was an enemy to Spain. 

Cities fell before him. He was a firebrand. He was ani- 
mated by the purpose to make the Argentines free from 
Spanish influence, but to enslave them himself. Quiroga, 
like the tiger who had tasted human blood, became filled 
with passion for blood. Power made him delight in power, 



220 OVER THE ANDES. 

and he gloried in having his own brutal will. He did not 
believe in God or man, only in Ouiroga. He was the spirit 
of revenge. " Pax," he once said, "shot nine of my officers; 
I have shot ninety-six of his." He killed any one who op- 
posed his will, even those who laughed at him ; he murdered 
a girl whom he had promised to marry, and even struck 
dead his own son. To excite his envy or jealousy was death. 
He became the product of himself — a despot. 

What was the end of the Tiger ? 

"It was on the 18th of December, 1835, that Facundo 
took leave of the city, saying to his friends, ' If I succeed, 
you will see me again ; if not, farewell forever.' At the last 
moment this intrepid man was assailed by dark presenti- 
ments. It will be remembered that something similar hap- 
pened to Napoleon when he was leaving the Tuileries for 
Waterloo. 

" He had scarcely made half a day's journey, when a 
muddy brook stopped his carriage. The travelling attend- 
ant came and tried to get it over ; new horses were put in, 
but in vain, and Ouiroga, falling into a rage, ordered the man 
himself to be harnessed to the vehicle. His brutality and 
terrorism appeared again as soon as he found himself without 
the city. This first obstacle being overcome, he went on 
across the pampas, always travelling until two o'clock in the 
night, and starting again at four. He was accompanied by 
Dr. Ortez, his secretary, and a well-known young man, who 
had been prevented from continuing the journey in his own 
carriage by the loss of a wheel soon after starting. 

" At every post Facundo eagerly asked how long it was 
since a courier from Buenos Ayres had passed? the usual 



STRANGE PEOPLE OF THE PAMPAS AND THE COAST. 221 

answer was, 'About an hour,' after which he called hurriedly 
for horses, and drove on rapidly. Their comfort was not in- 
creased by the rain, which fell in torrents two or three days. 
On entering the province of Santa Fe, Quiroga's anxiety in- 
creased, and it became absolute agony when, on reaching 
the post at Pavon, he found that the post-master was absent, 
and that no horses were to be had immediately. His com- 
panions saw no cause for this mood, and were astonished to 
find this man, who was a terror to the whole republic, a prey 
to what seemed groundless fears. 

" When the carriage once more started, he muttered in a 
low tone to himself, ' If I only get beyond the boundaries of 
Santa Fe, it is enough ! ' " 

He made the most frantic efforts to escape, but he who 
had pursued so many others to death without mercy was 
now himself pursued by Death without mercy. 

Followed by avengers, he put his head out of his coach 
window to give vent to his rage, and was shot. Nearly all 
of the South American tyrants came to a like end. 

The two other tyrants were Rosas and Lopez. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



THE ANDES. 



THE Andes (from anta, metal) may be called the beau- 
tiful mountains of the New World. They hold the 
delights of all climates, and have the fruits of all zones. 
The orange blooms at their feet ; the plantain, the cocoa 
palm, the olive ; the cactus and the orchid flourish on their 
sides ; and their tops are so cold that hardly a moss can live 
upon them. Seen from the pampas, they are celestial won- 
derlands ; giants crowned with crystal ; Titans that seem to 
uphold the heavens, the pillars of the firmament, the gate- 
ways of the sky. In the sunset, they dazzle earth and sky 
with their frozen fires. At night, they seem to be the 
chambers of the stars. 

Seen from the calm Pacific sea in the sunrise, their im- 
pression is never lost. Light pours over them in unimagined 
glory. The Cordillera, in the chain of the Andes, begins in 
the mountain islands among the tumultuous billows of Cape 
Horn, and may be found under the sea at Panama, and may 
even be said to cross Panama and unite with the peaks of 
Central America, Mexico, and the California Sierras. 

The plateaus of the Andes were the wonderlands of an- 
cient civilizations, of whom little except the remnants of the 
Incarial Indians remain. 

Nature moulded the New World on the Andes ; she made 



THE ANDES. 223 

them her vertebrae ; she marked the continent in the gigan- 
tic uplift for nearly five thousand miles, or for nine thousand 
miles, if we accept their North American continuance. They 
begin in the islands of surf, stretch under the fiery arch of 
the equator, and, in their farther sweep, end in the Arctic 
snows. The Old World presents no chain like this. The 
elevation in India may be higher, but the Oriental tropics 
present no scenes like the plateau between Chimborazo and 
Cotopaxi, where eternal snows gleam in the glow of the 
primeval furnaces of the earth, over valleys that bear the 
fruits of all zones. There never was a road amid such scen- 
ery as that over which the Incas travelled. It was like a 
highway amid the unfinished earth, lit by the lamps of the 
stars. 

The golden temples of the sun that blazed at Cuzco and 
Quito began and ended a highway of the world that finds 
no rivals among the Alps, the Atlas ranges, the Himalayas, 
Pyrenees, or Apennines. The sublime region of Lake Titi- 
caca stands solitary among the temples of nature in the 
world. 

The mighty Amazon is but the drain of these stupendous 
terraces and watersheds, whose towers command the sky. 

The chain is subdivided, and the names of the divisions 
present to the mind a view of the extent of the whole : the 
Patagonian Andes, that begins far out at sea ; the Chilian 
Andes, which have a distance of more than 1200 miles; the 
Peruvian Andes, that enclose the plateau of Titicaca, as 
large as the whole of Ireland ; the Andes of Ecuador, with 
their volcanoes, — the magnificent mountain land of the 
world ; and the Andes of New Granada, which seem to 



224 OVER THE ANDES. 

disappear near the Isthmus of Darien, but which really rise 
again in Central America. Of the peaks of these moun- 
tains, Aconcagua is nearly 23,000 feet high, and six other 
peaks are more than 20,000 feet high. 

The glory of the Andes is their plateaus, — the fertile lands 
of temperate zones, — where may be found nearly all the 
products of the vegetable world. The table-lands of Titicaca 
are 17,700 feet high, — more than twice as high as the sum- 
mit of Mt. Washington. The table-land of Cuzco is 8300 
feet high ; that of Quito, 9543 feet high ; and of Asuay, 
15,520 feet high, or higher than the top of Mt. Ranier or 
Tacoma. 

The height of the principal passes fills one with wonder. 
The pass of La Cumbre, in the Chilian Andes, the popular 
way between the Atlantic and the Pacific, or from Buenos 
Ayres to Valparaiso or Santiago de Chili, is 12,454 f ee t> or 
more than twice as high as Mt. Washington; while the pass 
of Antaranga, in the Peruvian Andes, is higher than Mont 
Blanc, or 16,199 f ee t- The lowest pass in the Andes over- 
tops the highest summit of the Pyrenees. Down the passes 
pour the torrents, from herbless icelands to wild gardens 
and plains of luxurious fertility and exuberance of beauty 
and bloom, where dead trees are orchid gardens in the air, 
where sport birds of the most gorgeous plumage, and hide 
the most gentle animals, and lurk the most deadly serpents. 

But as grand as the Andes appear from the pampas and 
from the sea, they lose their glory upon near approach. In 
the passes, the loftiest peaks are sometimes less impressive 
than the lower ranges. Many travellers over La Cumbre 
have expressed their disappointment when the highest point 



THE ANDES. 225 

was gained. The Andes, to overawe the soul and to excite 
admiration and reverence, must be viewed from afar, as from 
the pampas at sunrise, or from the Pacific at sunset. 

In the range of the Andes are fifty-one volcanoes, few of 
which are active. The grandest of these are in Ecuador. 
The highest is Cotopaxi, 18,887 f eer - It has been known to 
issue flames 3000 feet high, and to shake the earth for hun- 
dreds of miles. In the region around Quito, there are ten 
or more active volcanoes. The people live, as it were, over 
caverns or laboratories of fire. 

The dens of the Andes, caused by volcanic action, present 
awe-inspiring scenes. The den of Chota, the top of which is 
some 26,000 feet wide, has a perpendicular height of nearly 
5000 feet. 

The Andes, as the name implies, are treasuries of nearly 
all metals, and of the most precious of all, gold. Peru is the 
land of golden treasure, famous of old, and likely to be so 
again. The uplifts are nature's banks of silver as well as 
of gold, and of quicksilver as well as of silver. The moun- 
tains have never been mined to their largest extent, and they 
still offer to the world riches which may bring to the table- 
lands a new civilization and generation of men. 

Their plateaus, in the days of the children of the sun, held 
the highest civilization known to the Western world before 
the Columbian discovery. These plateaus are likely to be- 
come historic again in the high development of mankind. 
It is prophesied that they will. The finding of new mines 
may accomplish this. The overpopulation of North Amer- 
ica may lead to new migrations. The final march of the 
Aryan race may find its rest here, in times when the wonders 

Q 



226 OVER THE ANDES. 

of science may eclipse the Incas in their glory, in material 
things, and when spiritual light shall uplift temples to which 
the roofs of gold were but feeble types. 

A great educational field will these plateaus one day be- 
come. The work of the philanthropist here will last. These 
regions are to be surprises of future centuries. The moun- 
tains of the metals are yet to enrich higher ideals of life than 
any that ever entered into any Inca's dream. 



CHAPTER XX. 

OVER THE CORDILLERA THE TRANSANDINE RAILWAY. 

THE fare over the Andes from Buenos Ayres to Valp-o.' 
raiso, at the time this journey was made, was about one 
hundred and fifty dollars in paper, or fifty dollars in gold. 
The journey can be made by rail and mule in some seventy- 
two hours, or leisurely in four or five days. One might like 
to rest for a day at Mendoza, on the east side of the Andes ; 
or among the bowery gardens of Los Andes, on the west. 
The tickets for the whole journey are to be obtained m 
Buenos Ayres. 

The Cordillera to be crossed is some 13,000 feet high, bu 
less from the elevation from Mendoza. 

Our travellers bought ponchos, leggins, and ear wraps 
for the mountain journey at Buenos Ayres. The same es- 
sential articles can be obtained at a low cost in Mendoza. 

A poncho is a large shawl, with an opening in the middle, 
so as to go over the head, and wrap the whole body to the 
knees on mule back. Ponchos may be purchased from five 
to ten dollars each, or if one wants a bright and fine 
one to bring home as a souvenir, for fifteen or twenty or 
more dollars. A good poncho may be secured for eight 
dollars ; these quotations are in paper — pesos. 

The Argentine depot is a very busy place. It is near the 

227 



228 OVER THE ANDES. 

river, and one looks out from the platform, on a line of 
steamers and ships, most of them bearing the English or 
German flag. The water, purple in the distance, is clouded 
with yellow earth, caused perhaps by the mighty rush of its 
tides. Above the streets leading to the depot stands the 
custom-house, and the grand plaza, with its four walls of 
noble buildings, and its well-furnished walks, and its conspicu- 
ous monuments, one of which celebrates the Independence. 

The coaches of the train are large and luxurious, as good 
as the best on the ordinary North American railway. The 
route across the pampas is level ; the vast plains are " cattle 
kingdoms " ; herds succeed herds ; flocks, flocks ; fields of 
grain, fields of grain ; and alfalfa, alfalfa. 

It was late in autumn when our tourists started. It was 
spring on this side of the equator. October was April, and 
November, May. This is the beautiful time of the year to 
cross the Andes. The sky is blue, serene, and friendly, and 
the earth is a sea of flowers. 

The cars rolled out past the Alameda and the beautiful 
Recoleta. There is one city of the dead in the world from 
which one is loath to part forever, — a city of marble temples, 
lights, and flowers, where the dead do not seem to be dead, 
but only awaiting the coming of the living. It is the 
Recoleta. 

" It is a long, hard journey that you have before you," 
said an English traveller on the train. " You will be likely 
to bleed from the nose, eyes, ears, and mouth on the Cor- 
dillera." Would they ? The boys listened excitedly. 

The traveller then proceeded to tell stories of tourists who 
had lost their lives in the passes, and some of whose bodies 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 229 

had been found, remaining undecayed for years in the rare, 
cold, dry air. At the altitude where these travellers per- 
ished in the cold and snows, the condors had spared their 
remains. 

But the boys saw that Uncle Henry was not disturbed by 
these tales. 

"Is what the gentleman has said true ? " asked Alonzo of 
Uncle Henry. 

" I think so. It is quite likely." 

" Will we be in any such peril ? " 

" I think not." 

" But why did they perish ? " 

" They attempted to make the passes too soon," said Uncle 
Henry. 

" Shall we bleed ? " asked Alonzo. 

" I think not," said Uncle Henry. 

"Why? Others have." 

" My boys, when you ride up into the high Andes on mule 
back, you will forget to bleed in daylight, and you will be too 
tired to think of anything but sleep when you roll off your 
mules at nightfall." 

Leaving behind the placid purple sea and the yellow har- 
bor, the railway seems to sweep away into lands of the sun- 
set. At a distance of three hundred miles, it joins the 
Argentine Great Western Railway at Villa Mercedes. 

At sixty miles from the city of the Plata, we come to a 
pleasant town in a green and fruitful region, called Mercedes. 
It was, not many years ago, an outpost of civilization. Emi- 
grant sheep farmers came here : their first homes were their 
adventurous wagons, perhaps under their carts. Some of 



23O OVER THE ANDES. 

them are now rancheros, or herdsmen ; others own haciendas. 
A Scotchman, who came here empty-handed, and slept 
under his cart, now owns ten thousand or more sheep, and 
took one of the premiums for wool at the World's Columbian 
Exposition. 

This man is one of nature's noblemen, a pioneer of superior 
sense, moral force, and benevolence. He has given twenty- 
five thousand dollars in gold to a school in Mercedes, and 
his name has been chosen to honor one of the beautiful public 
grounds. His wife, a lady from the states, shares his charac- 
ter, energy, and benevolence. His name is Nicholas Lowe. 

Our travellers stopped at Mercedes, the guests of Mr. 
Lowe, on an introduction from Dr. Dee of Buenos Ayres. 
They were taken by this hard-sensed, open-hearted Scotch- 
man to ride over his noble estate, which is called Alta Mira, 
if we may thus spell the name from the sound of the words 
as given them. 

The country around this beautiful estate recalls Old Eng- 
land and New ; but the town has a very Spanish expression. 

The boys heard, with deep interest, Mr. Lowe tell the story 
of his own life. His fortune had been built on character, 
and he had come to be regarded by the people as a kind of 
patriarch of the plains. If a look of honest satisfaction came 
into his face as he passed the school that he had endowed, 
and the plaza bearing his own name, it was but the reflection 
of the high purpose of his own soul : he had earned it — 
and there are no jewels to compare to a crown of life like 
that. 

We say honest satisfaction. An estancia like this, created 
out of one's purpose of soul, is one's objective life. It is the 



OVER THE CORDILLERA 23 I 

inner life projected ': one's thoughts in material form outside 
of one's self. For a man without any resources, except those 
within himself, to make an estate like this, and to turn its 
profits into good for mankind, is to change the soul into 
material expressions of thought and vision after the manner 
of creation. These material images multiply, and their influ- 
ences never die. Froebel founded his system of education on 
the discovery, or the apprehension, of the fact that the 
greatest joy that comes to a youthful soul is that when a 
child exclaims, " See what I have made ! " The principle 
holds good in all life. To create something for the good of 
others, out of one's visions, is to develop a noble soul. What 
San Martin did as a soldier, and William Wheelwright as 
a practical scientist, Nicholas Lowe has done as a simple 
farmer and shepherd under the blue skies of Argentina. 
His thoughts will live long after he has gone. 

THE FIRST VIEW OF THE ANDES. 

Whatever the traveller may fail to see in the passes of the 
high Ancles, he will never be disappointed in his view of the 
white Cordillera, as seen from the pampas or from the ocean. 
No objects more enforce the truth that distance lends en- 
chantment than the Andes. 

As the boys approached Mendoza, houses surrounded with 
green poplars and vineyards began to appear. The pam- 
pas seemed rolling, as over them once rolled the sea. 
There were delays in this part of the route, and in these 
they studied the scenery. 

One clear morning, just as the sun was coming up over the 



232 OVER THE ANDES. 

billowy pampas, the party got out at a station near Men- 
doza, and looked towards the west. 

What a scene, never to be forgotten, met their eyes ! A 
long line of dazzling splendor blended with the purple sky ; 
temples of crystal, whose pinnacles it would seem might have 
shone in the regions of the stars ! The rosy flush of the 
rising sun arched the ice plains under the brows of these 
stupendous heights. 

All was white and crystal, as one might fancy the guar- 
dian wall of a paradise to be. In the high peaks there was 
an amber light, which faded, like a golden fire on a crystal 
altar in some city of stars. But the colors disappeared, 
leaving all the Cordillera white and crystal, with tropical 
forests and gardens about their feet. One might here recall 
Sir Thomas Moore's lines, on view of Mt. Lebanon : — 

" Now upon Syria's land of roses 
Softly the light of eve reposes, 
And like a glory the broad sun 
Hangs over sacred Lebanon, 
Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, 
And whitens in eternal sleep ; 
While summer in a vale of flowers 
Is sleeping rosy at his feet." 

How did Alonzo and Leigh look upon this scene ? They 
simply stood silent. The vivid white of the mountain wall 
began to lose its lustre as the sun came up blazing over the 
wide green sea of the pampas. 

" What must it be to stand upon those peaks and look 
down ! " Alonzo said at last. 

" I can't speak," said Leigh. " There are no words for 
such scenery as that. It makes me all choke up." 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 233 

"But this is nothing," said Alonzo ; " how will you feel 
when you are up there?" 

" My boys," said Uncle Henry, " I don't want to have you 
disappointed. You will seem to be among low mountains all 
the way when you are up there, for the peaks will look to 
you no higher than when they rise above the pass. You have 
already seen the Andes in their glory. Look well, for you 
will not see another such a sight as this until you look upon 
the Cordillera in the sunset from the Pacific Ocean. To see 
the Andes in the sunrise from the pampas, or in the sunset 
from the sea, is to view one of the grandest of the world's 
spectacles ; but in the Andes the sense of height, of majesty, 
and glory disappears." 

" But," said Alonzo, " how is it if one looks down ?" 

" It is not looking down, my boy, that thrills the soul, and 
makes one choke up with awe, admiration, and reverence, as 
Leigh has been doing. It is looking up that fills the soul. 
It is worth everything in life." 

After this view of the high Andes, everything seemed to 
sink into serene shadow, as the eye fell. 

"A scene like that ought to last forever," said Leigh. 

"If it did, it would cease to make travellers like you choke 
up," said Uncle Henry. "We have but little appreciation of 
what is continuous." 

" How far are we now from the summit of the mountains?" 
asked Alonzo. 

" I should think that we might be one hundred and fifty or 
one hundred and seventy miles from the Cumbre pass over 
the Cordillera," said Uncle Henry. 

They went on amid sunny fields of lucern. The high 



234 OVER THE ANDES. 

Andes were shut out from view by the lower ranges. The 

wide gray waste of the country disappeared. The thistle 

fields and everything became green. Beautiful Mendoza, 

with her towers and poplar-tree shadows, began to come 

into view. 

" Mendoza ! " said the conductor. They were in the city 

of bowery streets where General San Martin organized the 

Army of the Andes, of whom it may have been said in the 

words of the poet, — 

"Whither go they? 
Whither go they? " 

Mendoza the beautiful, in a waving sunlight sea of lucern 
and clover, with the majestic Cordillera towering above, and 
pouring down a rapid, rippling river from the crystal heights 
to water the plain ! The streets are bowers, the enclosures 
of the houses are beds of bloom. Here would seem to be 
found the perfect city of the inland world. 

But one was not to walk about for a long time to find the 
ruins made by a once terrible earthquake. In 1861 the city 
was overturned, and the greater number of its fifteen thou- 
sand people perished. " Caracas sleeps on her own grave," 
said Humboldt. The same could be said of Mendoza. It 
was rebuilt more beautiful than before, and has steadily grown 
in size and population. It is about one hundred and ten miles 
from Santiago, over the Cordillera, and stands at an elevation 
of some three thousand feet above the sea. 

The Frobishers spent several days in this city of bowery 
ways and mellow mountain shadows. They met here edu- 
cational work in many progressive forms. Here, also, the 
following touching incident came into their experience. 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 235 

Some years ago an Italian came here to labor for the 
spiritual good of the people. It is a custom for Italians to 
emigrate from their own country to Argentina, to accumulate 
a small fortune, and to return to their old home places, and 
to purchase or make a villa in Italy. 

This man had made his small fortune in this way, and 
was about to fulfil his dream of life, when a new impression 
came to him. He had been brought under religious influ- 
ences in Argentina in such a way as to reveal to him the 
religious educational needs of the growing population of this 
new empire under the Andes. When this need was made 
clear to him, the prospect of a villa in Italy no longer satis- 
fied his soul. 

Why should he not use his means in an effort to improve 
the condition of his own people here ? To build men was 
now more to him than to own a villa in Italy. 

He resolved to give his life to humanity, and he chose 
Mendoza as the field of labor. The plague came, and he 
labored among those stricken. He won all hearts by his 
unselfish efforts and his consecrated life. He led many to 
religious light, and he so improved the social conditions of 
his countrymen here that any villa in Italy now seems of 
small account to the work that he accomplished. He died 
in his adopted country, and could have never regretted that 
he had relinquished the dream of his villa in Italy. 

At Mendoza, ponchos and mufflers and leather leggings 
were purchased by some of the people who were going over 
the Cordillera. 

Alonzo found a naturalist there who had, in collections of 
reptiles, a fine specimen of the handsome, but deadly, coral 



236 OVER THE ANDES. 

snake. It was confined in a tin box, with a network of wire 
in a part of the cover. 

Alonzo had heard a director of a museum in Boston speak 
of this deadly serpent in a lecture, and he desired to secure 
this one for the museum. He would try to take it alive, but 
as this could hardly be done in a long journey, he would 
have it put into a bottle of alcohol, on the other side of the 
mountains. 

Uncle Henry thought that a specimen could be secured in 
Lima or Guayaquil. But Alonzo, fearing that he might fail 
to secure so handsome a specimen on the West Coast, pur- 
chased the reptile, and it was added to the curious collection 
that Our Boys had made to take over the Andes. 

" If there comes a snowstorm, and you are housed, you 
can throw him away," said the vender. 

It was a somewhat novel sight that Our Boys, if so 
we may call all of our Milton Hill travellers, presented as 
they walked the long platform of the Transandine depot at 
bowery Mendoza. There was a nervous old English gentle- 
man, named Cottle, who was going over the Cordillera, and 
as he had no friends, he joined himself voluntarily to our 
party. 

" You look friendly," he said, addressing the whole party. 
"Americans are safe people to travel with ; you are going 
over, I conclude." 

He tilted his head back, rested on his cane, and remarked, 
" It is a long distance up there." 

He noticed Arline's parrot. 

" You are not going to carry that oivl with you over the 
Andes, are you, my little lady ? " he. asked. 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 237 

Before Arline could answer, Loro said, — 

" What is the matter, Loro ? " 

"My heyes (eyes)!" exclaimed Mr. Cottle, "or rather I 
should say my hears ! I never had a bird answer me back 
in that way before. You'll find out what's the matter, you 
saucy little jade, when a snowstorm overtakes you tip there : 
you'll ruffle your pretty plumes about that time, or my name 
is not Cottle. There were seven persons who perished in 
the snows up there two years ago." 

Arline looked towards her uncle in alarm. 

"What are you going to do with those fine birds?" he 
asked of Leigh. 

" I am going to try to take them back to America with me, 
sir." 

"What — do I hear with my hears! — what, over the 
mountains ? " 

" Yes. I am going to try to do it. The mocking-bird, I 
am told, has a very melodious voice. I have not heard it 
sing yet." 

"And you never will. It has sung its last song, poor 
thing ! Boy, have you any idea where you are going ? " 

" Over the Cordillera, sir." 

" You are going up where it is so cold that the ice has not 
melted for one thousand years. Nothing but condors and 
pumas can live up there. And what have you ? " he asked 
of Alonzo. " What have you in that tin box ? " 

"That is a coral snake, sir." 

" My heyes ! and my hears, and all of my 'ead ! Suppose 
it were to get out ? " 

" It cannot do so, sir." 



238 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Ah, you can't be sure. Suppose it were to crawl out by 
the fire in the casuc/ia. It makes me shake to think of it." 

" What is the casuc/ia, — may I ask, sir ? " 

" It is a wretched hut, — a shed of wall and grass, — where 
travellers seek shelter in a snowstorm ; a thing that is likely 
to come at any time up there. Ain't you a rather queer lot 
of folks ? What have you, my friend, in your box ? " he 
spoke to Uncle Henry. 

"Bees!" 

" Bees ! You are not going to take them over the Cordil- 
lera, are you ? Why, good man, they will freeze up ; and a 
snowstorm is likely to come, and send you into a caravansary 
for three days ; and they would all thaw out before the fire, 
and they would make lively times, when and where there 
would be no chance to run." 

"These are Chaco bees, stingless bees, sir." 

" Well, well, well ! I hope that you will be more fortunate 
than some other travellers have been at this time of the year. 
Suppose the coral snake should thaw out in the caravansary, 
or the post-house, and you could not find him, and that there 
were puma's tracks outside in the snow. Do you ever think 
of such things as those ? I do. I anticipate events. I have 
an active mind. It goes all the time. Just fancy yourselves 
up there, twelve or more thousand feet high in a snowstorm, 
shut in a walled hut, with parrots, and bees, and snakes, and 
pumas outside, and the wind blowing at the rate of a thou- 
sand miles a minute — O-o-o-o ! Sometimes I wish that I 
hadn't started." 

" Vamous ! " cried a voice. 

The passengers hurried to the train. 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 239 

The old man stood still, as if he were yet uncertain as to 
whether or not he would go. 

"Adelante!" said the same mysterious voice. 

Mr. Cottle entered the car. The bell rung. Our Boys 
were headed towards Tupungato now, with birds, bees, 
snake, and with timorous old Mr. Cottle to predict snow- 
storms in the passes, which he did fail to do at several cheer- 
ful stations. 

The newspaper writer, Mr. Warrener, had joined the party 
at Mendoza. He had no parrot, birds, bees, or snake, but 
simply a portfolio, with harmless bits of verse. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

OVER THE CORDILLERA. 

MENDOZA," says Dr. Dee, in his picturesque little 
book of one of his missionary journeys, "is the gate- 
way of the Andes." It is the Argentine terminus of that 
Transandine railroad that the shipwrecked William Wheel- 
wright saw in his dreams and visions. It will one day become 
a great city, if an earthquake does not throw it down again. 

The Transandine railroad really begins at the seaport of 
Buenos Ayres in the pampas, Ensenada. Buenos Ayres is 
a stopping-place on the way. The railroad is to be one of 
the wonders of the world, and one of the most important 
highways of travel and trade. Travelling for pleasure, when 
it shall be completed, which will be in a few years, will be 
likely to turn its course to the greater Alps, the Alpine 
Andes of the South Temperate Zone. 

The railway climbs the Andes through rocky walls and 
roaring streams. Flowers, of varieties unknown except to 
the natives or to botanist, bloom on every hand along the 
way. It is not often that one obtains any inspiring view of 
the heights as one ascends the lower ranges. The traveller 
knows that stupendous Tupungato and Aconcagua rise like 
towers of heaven in the neighborhood of the vast city of the 
hills ; but these pillars of the sky are shut out from view. 
One may hide the sun with one's hand, and the little hills 

240 






THE RAILWAY CLIMBS THE ANDES THROUGH ROCKY WALLS AND ROARING 
STREAMS. 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 2/j.I 

here shut out the near spectacles of majesty and glory. 
One must stand afar, look up to Tupungato, and farther to 
view Aconcagua. 

At a stony level, after a few hours' ride, one leaves the 
railway, and takes the mule. 

At this point, the boys were filled with curiosity and 
excitement. The mules were awaiting the travellers in the 
cars at the point where the train stopped. 

It was a curious sight. The little animals were some 
fifty in number. The larger number were pack-mules, or 
those who were carrying the baggage. 

The arrieros began to load the pack-mules. The boys 
surveyed the work with wonder. 

An arriero strapped two large trunks together by heavy 
hide bands, and put them on the back of a patient-looking 
little white mule, so that one trunk hung upon one side, and 
the other upon the other. 

" The trunks are bigger than the mule," said Alonzo. 
"That is what I call cruelty to animals." 

The white mule stood patiently, as though expecting a yet 
larger load. 

He was not disappointed. The larger load came. Be- 
tween the two trunks the arriero piled boxes, portmanteaus, 
canes, umbrellas, and many other things, until the poor 
little white mule was lost under the stack of everything. 

" I would kick, if I were that mule," said Alonzo, indig- 
nantly. 

But the mule did not kick or bray or squeal. When he 
at last was loaded, so that he looked like a kind of Tupun- 
gato, the arriero said, — 



242 OVER THE ANDES. 

"An da! a I turn!" 

The great pile of baggage began to move away, leaving 
the other mules, who were loading in like manner. 

The boys' eyes watched the animated load. It presently 
disappeared among the rocks in the upward way. 

"Extraordinario ! " said Leigh to the arriero, who was 
loading another meek little mule in the same way. 

"No extraordinario" said the muleteer. " Ni con mucho." 
(Far from it.) 

"Yo soy Americano," answered Leigh, humbly. 

As fast as the pack-mules were loaded, they started off 
at the word of the muleteer. They seemed to have no 
guide, although the boys afterwards learned that the old 
white mule that had been started first knew all the way, 
and acted as leader of the rest. 

So one by one the loaded mules disappeared. 

The boys looked over the mules that were left, and won- 
dered to which of these they would be assigned ; which 
would be their mules. 

The best mules were assigned to two Spanish ladies and 
to Arline. 

THE NEST OF THE CONDOR. 

They started on. It was high noon. Peaks rose over 
peaks, some of them black as ebony at the base, lifting into 
the sun gleaming pinnacles of ice and snow. 

The party zigzagged, the mules stopped at their will to 
rest in the rare air, and always turned their heads towards 
the edge of the cliffs when they stopped in order to keep 
their feet planted on firm ground. 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 243 

They came to a little platform of rock that overlooked 
the pass. Here the party stopped, and the riders dis- 
mounted, and the arrieros examined the saddle girts. 

Our Boys rolled off of their mules. Uncle Henry simply 
sunk down from his saddle, and sat there looking off into 
the far distance. He said, — 

" My muscles are so stiff I cannot move." 

It was not very cold, although the platform of rock was 
amid the snow peaks. There was a warm flood of sunlight 
and a sharp, keen wind that at times cut around a shelf of 
the pass. 

Condors were flying in air. How grand they looked ! 
their wide wings swimming, as it were, in the blue fields of 
the sunlight. Higher and higher they circled and wheeled. 
It was a delight to watch them. 

Alonzo walked out on some shelves of rock. He seemed 
to be suddenly startled by something that he saw, and he 
beckoned to Leigh, who answered the call. 

"What is it? " asked Leigh, coming up to his brother. 

" Condors." 

" Where ? " 

" Look down." 

On a wide shelf of rock below were three condors, enor- 
mous birds, with grizzly heads and white collars. They did 
not move at the sound of voices. Alonzo threw down some 
tufts of earth towards them, but the birds did not move. 

" There must be a condor's nest there," said Leigh. " The 
birds are protecting their eggs, or their young ; let us climb 
down and see." 

" Is it safe ? " 



244 OVER THE ANDES. 

" We will go slowly. I have a knife." 

" I have a pistol." 

" Let us call to Uncle Henry." 

The boys whistled, and drew Uncle Henry's attention. 
Then they threw up their hands to indicate to him the direc- 
tion where they were going, and climbed down the rocks. 

They came to the platform where the birds were. The 
latter ruffled their wings, but did not attempt to move, rise, 
or fly. 

There was no nest at hand. The birds seemed stupid. 
They had enormous breasts, and looked as if half asleep. 

" If we could secure some eggs for Arline," said Leigh, 
" they would be treasures to be proud of, and to keep for- 
ever." 

" I do not see any nest or any eggs or young," said Alonzo. 
" I did not know that condors were so tame." 

" Here is something strange," said Leigh. " A carcass ; 
the flesh has been eaten by the birds. See, the birds are 
gorged. They look like so many sleeping gluttons. There 
are no nests here. The birds have eaten so much that they 
cannot fly. The carcass is that of a guanaco." 

"Do you suppose that the birds killed him ?" asked Alonzo. 

" No, they have not the power to do it. The guanaco is 
almost as big as a cow." 

" If the birds did not kill it, what did, do you suppose ? " 

" Perhaps the animal died." 

"No, the flesh on his bones is fresh and torn." 

" It may be that he was shot by some caravan." 

" No, it looks as though he had been killed by some wild 
beast." 



OVER THE CORDILLERA. 245 

Alonzo approached the birds. The latter spread their 
wings as if to fly, but after waving them a few times, they 
simply moved lazily around for a little distance, and looked 
more stupid than before. 

"They are gorged," said Leigh. 

" Condors in high air, and condors at near range, are very 
different looking birds. They sail about above you, like the 
monarch of the air ; but near at hand, they are only enormous 
buzzards. They seem to have hardly life enough to keep 
their eyes open. Let us call Uncle Henry to come here. I 
have no wish to harm the birds." 

The head of a curious animal appeared in a cavernous 
shadow near. It came out of the rocky hole slowly, turning 
hither and thither, revealing a sinuous body. 

" It's a puma," said Alonzo. 

" Heaven save us, then ! " said Leigh. The two boys flew, 
as it were, up the rocks, and then turned and looked back. 

The puma placed his paws on the guanaco, and looked up 
toward them, turning his head as though it were hung on a 
pivot. 

He opened his mouth not savagely, but lazily. 

" It was he that killed the guanaco," said Alonzo. 

" He ate his fill and went away, and then the condors 
came down and gorged themselves." 

Uncle Henry, seeing that the boys had found something 
that interested them, joined them. 

The three stood on the rock looking down. The puma 
presently left the carcass and disappeared in the cavern. 
The birds made an effort to fly, but simply flopped their 
wing;s again. 



246 OVER THE ANDES. 

"It is after the banquet," said Uncle Henry. " 'Wonder- 
ful, majestic bird,' " added he, quoting the "Lines to the Con- 
dor" from an old reading book. 

There came a rush of wind, followed by the sound of 
the arrierds whistle. 

"My muscles are like wood," said Uncle Henry. "How 
shall I ever mount up on that mule again ? " 

The arricro helped him, and said, "Para altura." 

"Altura" answered Uncle Henry. The party was soon 
defiling through rocky walls, where were dark caverns. 

"Suppose," said Alonzo, "there should be some puma 
here that has not had his dinner." 

"He surely cannot have my mule for one," said Uncle 
Henry. 

They came again into an open space, larger than before. 
They looked up. Between two dark peaks, crowned with 
snow, rose a pinnacle of snow to a tremendous height. It 
was pure white, and dazzled the eye. It looked like a pillar 
of the sky. The air was clear. The snow column had a 
silvery lustre, without a single shade of any other color. It 
revealed no tree or rock or cliff. 

"I never saw so beautiful a monument," said Leigh. The 
scene was shortly lost to view. 

"Altura! " cried the guide. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

A STORM THE OLD ARRIERO NERVOUS MR. COTTLE — IN 

THE POSADA. 

IT was a cheerful sight, as the procession wound its way 
up the pass. An old bell-mule led, a madrina, as she was 
called. She was, as it were, the queen of the mules. She 
was followed by the pack-mules with their curious loads, — 
walking stores or almacens. There were two arrieros, or 
muleteers, who accompanied the manager of the journey. 
The travellers came last, and last among these were Our 
Boys, and the Englishman, and Arline with her parrot. 

The nervous old Englishman, Mr. Cottle, rode near Arline, 
and predicted storms, and wondered whatever did tempt him 
to undertake such a journey as this. The wonder grew as he 
ascended the granite stairs to the sky. 

Arline let Loro sit on the pommel of her saddle. There 
seemed little danger of her flying away. She had no dispo- 
sition to part with the present company. The bird's wonder, 
like Mr. Cottle's, grew, and she constantly asked, — 

" What is the matter, Loro ? " 

The weather was beautiful. There were no clouds in the 
sky. From time to time snowy summits appeared on high, 
or in the distance, — glorious domes rising into the purple 
heavens, as though earth were the temple of them. 

247 



248 OVER THE ANDES. 

There was a young arriero named Manuel Flores, who had 
sparkling black eyes. His poncho nearly covered him. He 
carried a whip of long leather cords in his hand. He was a 
lively and kind-hearted youth, and he began to take a sym- 
pathetic interest in Arline and Loro. 

Up the little caravan wound, like a thread into the bright 
air. At several places the party dismounted and walked, 
the old gentleman losing his breath. 

There was an old arriero in the company, who was also 
named Flores, and was called ' Senor Flores.' He had a ready 
hand and a very faithful heart. When in walking, if one was 
seen to falter, he offered the person his hand. He helped 
the old gentleman up steep places, and carried Loro for 
Arline. 

"Altura ! " (heights), he exclaimed, as new summits ap- 
peared. 

" It is old Flores' work to cry ' altura /' " he said to Arline, 
" and to help the traveller upward. I have done this work 
for many years. I help everybody, and hinder nobody, and 
cry 'altura! altura ! para altura!"' 1 Arline came greatly 
to admire this guide. He seemed somehow to represent 
human life, with his cry of altura and his helping hand. 

Mr. Cottle avoided Alonzo. 

" I would not carry that tin box over the Cordillera for all 
the gold of Peru," he said. " How do you know what effect 
the atmosphere may have upon it ? " 

The arriero did not offer to put this suspicious piece of 
baggage on a pack-mule at the time of starting. In the 
course of the journey he attempted to do so, but the mule 
kicked and ran, as though he knew what was in the box. 



A STORM. 249 

They came to a point where the great white summits ap- 
peared. Along their walls were rising some gray clouds. 

" It looks as though we might have a fall of snow later," 
said Manuel. 

" Snow, snow ! " said Mr. Cottle ; " what would we do if it 
were to come on to snow ? " 

" We would find shelter in a casucha, if we were not near 
a posada ; we would be safe." 

The casuchas, or travellers' retreats, were wretched huts, 
and looked as though they would afford but little security in 
a violent storm. The posadas were not inviting, but they 
had strong walls and places for open fires. 

It grew cold. The sun wore a silvery, moon-like pallor. 
The pearly gray clouds were overspreading the purple sky. 
In the afternoon, the sun went out. There was a shade 
everywhere. 

"Altura ! para altura ! " cried the old arriero. 

Young Manuel's face wore a look of alarm. He hurried 
on the mules. 

"What is the matter?" asked Loro, as she felt the excite- 
ment that the arrieros had raised in hurrying the train. The 
mules panted. Poor Mr. Cottle's face was turned toward 
the sky. He wondered, and wondered, and while he won- 
dered a few flakes of snow fell. 

" It is coming ! " cried the old arriero. " Manuel, hurry on 
the train ; we must reach the posada ! " 

The air was still, but the chill grew. Loro hid in Arline's 
poncho. It must have been a pitiful time for the two caged 
birds and the bees. The tropical coral snake must have 
become oblivious of his fangs. 



25O OVER THE ANDES. 

"Altura!" 

The snow was falling on the heights. 

" This is awful," said Mr. Cottle to the old arriero. " What 
did you take us up here for into the chambers of the sky, 
before the snowstorms were over ? They told me that the 
passes were open, and that it was all like summer on the 
Cumbre.." 

The snow fell gently, but heavily. A poor pack-mule in her 
hurry turned her baggage saddle so that the baggage hung 
under her, and delayed the train. The old arriero worked 
vigorously at the straps, and repacked the baggage. 

The peaks disappeared. Nothing could be seen but the 
narrow pass in the snow. The great flakes of snow were 
mingled with bits of ice that cut. There was a light wind. 
The rare air and the gathering snow compelled the mules 
to stop often to breathe. 

" I let my mule breathe for me," said Mr. Cottle to Arline. 
" I don't believe that any one of us will ever see home again. 
Whole parties have perished in these mountains." 

This was not a cheerful view, especially as the snow thick- 
ened and the wind increased. 

The mules crowded together. There was alarm in the 
train. Old Flores himself seemed troubled. 

"It is not often that we have very severe storms so late in 
the season," he said ; " but we shall reach the posada in an 
hour." 

It was a dreadful hour. The wind began to blow, and the 
gusts cut. The snow seemed mingled with points of knives. 

" Why did I ever leave Old England?" said Mr. Cottle. 
" But I did — and here is the end of it all." 



A STORM. 251 

The mules began to run and to plunge. They had discov- 
ered a light. They knew that there were shelter and food be- 
fore them. They wallowed down a narrow turn in the way, 
and stopped and brayed with short breath. They had reached 
the posada. 

It was now nightfall. It was snowing furiously, and the 
wind whistled and roared. The travellers dismounted with 
aching limbs, and entered the. posada. 

The house was built of stone. It had a long low wall and 
a grass roof. There were tables and benches along one side 
of the wall, and in the middle of the wall on the opposite 
side was a large open fire, with a bin of fuel. The fire pre- 
sented a cheerful glow, and the travellers gathered around it. 

Poor Loro put her head outside of the poncho, when she 
felt the fire, and inquired, " What is the matter? " 

" I would give a guinea for a sip of that coffee, if I could 
have it now," said Mr. Cottle. 

"The storm will be over in the morning," said the cook. 
" Snowstorms do not last long at this season of the year." 

This was cheerful intelligence. Our Boys heard it with 
joy. 

" It is not an uncommon thing for travellers to get caught 
in the snow up here," added the cook, setting some meat 
down to cook. 

But the old arriero shook his head, and said, stamping his 
feet, — 

" We are out of danger, but I would not be surprised if we 
did not get away from the place to-morrow." 

" But what shall we do ? " asked Mr. Cottle. " How shall 
we pass the time ? " 



252 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Some trayellers, in such a case as this, pass the time in 
games, and some in telling stories around the fire." 

"We must make the best of the situation," said Uncle 
Henry, " and all of us be as cheerful as we can." 

The cook set the tables, and placed upon them meat 
{came), bread {pan), cheese {queso), curry, and coffee. 

The meal was simple, but was eaten with a relish, espe- 
cially the curry, which Mr. Cottle declared to be made of 
fire, and to turn one's " internal regions " into the regions 
which rhymed with the adjective. 

The wind raged. The snow beat against the wall like 
bullets ; but after the meal the travellers became cheerful, 
especially as the cook replenished the fire with some myste- 
rious coal or fuel, and the light flashed over the room. 

Few cared to play games. All wished to talk, and the 
travellers desired most to hear what the manager and the 
old arriero, Flores, might have to say. 

The room became more cheerful when the manager and 
the arrieros had sheltered the mules, and came into the room, 
and sat down by the fire for the evening. 

The conversation took on a lively and hopeful tone, and 
Our Boys ventured at last to ask the conductor, or trainman, 
for a story. He complied. His story related to an alarmed 
traveller, which we will give in another chapter. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE CONDUCTOR'S STORY OF MR. ALLWRONG AND THE WILD 

ARRIERO. 

THERE was an Englishman who seems to have been born 
on the day when the world stood still, and whose bent 
it was to see how everything that was accomplished should 
have been done in some other way. He had the genius of 
seeing how things, which he opposed doing at all, could have 
been brought about in some better way. 

He made few friends and many enemies, wherever he lived, 
and used to remark that a few people had had their way in 
this world long enough, and that he had ceased to follow such, 
but meant to serve the public by having his own way. 

His name was Mr. Allong, but people came to call him 
Mr. Allwrong, after his characteristics, and Mr. Allwrong 
heard that fortunes were to be made in Argentina and Chili 
in many ways ; that it rained gold, as it were, in those coun- 
tries, as in Peru, whose sun was supposed to weep tears of 
gold, and he thought that he would go and see. So Mr. 
Allwrong sailed away from Liverpool for Buenos Ayres, and 
finding things all wrong there, he concluded to go over the 
mountains to Chili, — a pushing country where the old Arau- 
canian Indians used to set their heroes in the sky. 

It was many years ago before William Wheelwright's 

253 



2 54 OVER THE ANDES. 

vision of a Transandine railroad began to take form in 
iron rails. 

He arrived at Mendoza, which had recently been tumbled 
down by an earthquake, and where he of course found things 
all wrong; and more, he looked about for a guide to help him 
over the Cordillera, which, when he saw it from a distance, 
really excited his admiration. 

There were many arrieros in Mendoza ; but he tried to 
make a hard bargain with them, and they refused to under- 
take the journey for an undesirable traveller and a poor 
return. 

There was an arriero in this region of the earthquakes and 
purple vines who was a little touched in mind, a little off 
when he became excited, who was sometimes called the wild 
guide. His name was Espanillo. He was advanced in 
years, but his muscles were firm, and his conduct with those 
who treated him well was trusty and true. 

" But I'll not be driven about like a dumb animal," he used 
to say. " I treat those well who treat me well : all men 
make their own kind of a world ! Old Espanillo never failed 
a man who treated him well." 

But it was hinted that there was a traveller who went up 
the pass with Espanillo who was never heard from again. 
This traveller had little money, but a very bad temper, and it 
was feared that he had awakened the wild nature in his guide 
during the journey. Espanillo was not a robber. 

Mr. Allwrong secured the service of Espanillo to help him 
over the Andes. 

" How will we go ? " he asked. 

" On two mules, avnigo" said Espanillo. 



THE CONDUCTORS STORY. 255 

" That would be all wrong. I could not ride a mule ; he 
might kick up." 

" But the road would remain. When mules or men kick 
the world remains just the same," said wild Espanillo. 

" Could you not carry me in a chair over the hard part of 
the way ? " 

" Yes, Senor, I have carried travellers in a chair strapped 
on my back over the hard places many a time, but they were 
chiefly women. Espanillo is not as young as he once was, 
and the thin air on the ascent to the Cumbre makes it hard 
for him to breathe with a little woman on his back, and you 
must weigh a hundred and fifty pounds," he added. " The 
soroche blows there." 

"What is the soroche f " asked the old gentleman. 

" The fever wind. It makes you bleed out of your eyes, 
nose, and mouth, and if it causes a blood-vessel to burst in 
your head, you are gone." 

" Merciful heavens ! didn't I tell the folks that the world 
was all wrong ? " 

But he made a bargain with Espanillo that he should take 
but one mule, to provide for any emergency, and that he 
should lead this mule by a bridle, but should carry him in a 
traveller's chair over the hard places. 

" I want to see the magnificent scenery," he said, as they 
started mid the foot-hills of flowers. 

"You can see that better from the plains," said Espanillo. 
" The higher you go, the less high become the peaks." 

" That is just like life itself," said Mr. Allwrong. " I wish 
I had had the planning of things. You lose everything in 
obtaining it — all the fun of life is in the pursuit, and the 



256 OVER THE ANDES. 

thing that you follow always turns out to be dust and 
ashes." 

They journeyed upward. They crossed the bridge of the 
Inca, where our unhappy traveller took a long rest, and dis- 
covered that the bridge was not nearly as curious as he 
thought it was going to appear. 

Then they ascended by many easy stages out of the regions 
of palms into the cooler atmospheres. 

" Where is Tupungato ? " asked Mr. Allwrong one day. 

" Back of the mountains, Senor." 

" But what did you have it there for, all out of sight? Why 
did you take me in some way where I could not see the 
scenery? " 

"The lower mountains shut out the view of the higher 
mountains," said the guide. 

" But what do they do that for, — just to bother a person ? " 

" I cannot tell, Senor." 

" But why not ? it is your business to take a traveller where 
he can see the scenery." 

" I cannot go out of the pass, Senor. I would lose the 
way." 

" You would. In England we would use a head like yours 
for a horse-block ! Where is Aconcagua, the mighty ? " 

" Behind the mountains, Senor." 

" Shall I not see it at all ? " 

" I cannot say, Senor. It is better seen from the pampas 
or ocean." 

" It is, hey ? — better seen from the ocean. Then, why 
don't people go out on the ocean to see it ? " 

" I do not know, Senor." 



THE CONDUCTOR'S STORY. 257 

The pass became a gray wall over which loomed summits 
of snow. The way was steep, and our traveller called for 
the use of the chair, and he mounted into it, and rode upward 
on the old arrierds back. 

But he was still unhappy. 

" Don't jolt me so," he said, and he constantly repeated 
the admonition. " Don't jolt me so, — you will shake me all 
to pieces ! " 

" But what do you think of my case, Senor ? I have to 
pick my way." 

" Your case ! Don't I hire you ? am I not going to pay 
you ? You are nothing but a pack-horse, anyway ! " 

" Don't say that again, Sehor. I don't like to have my 
feelings ruffled in such places as these. We are coming to 
the top of the world." 

"What good would it be to visit the top of the world, if one 
could see nothing when he got there ? One might as well be 
blind." 

As the days passed Mr. Allwrong became more and more 
disagreeable. The air became rare, and he compelled Es- 
panillo to carry him all the way, and found fault when he did 
not travel rapidly, or when he stumbled. Old Espanillo in 
the higher part of the pass had to stop often for breath on 
account of the rareness of the air. 

" Why are you stopping so often ? " asked Mr. Allwrong. 

" I cannot breathe." 

" But I can, as old as I am." 

" But I am carrying you, not you me." 

" Of course you are ; that is what I hired you for." 

" Have you no feelings, Sehor ? " 
s 



258 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Feelings ! I don't wonder that you ask the question. 
One would need to be made of lead to be jolted about 
this way." 

The air became thinner and the way harder. Great 
masses of snow rose from black rocks, and there was not a 
plant to be seen, nor even a bird in the air. 

"I must stop," said Espanillo, "and you must dismount, 
and we must rest." 

" Oh, go on, you ass ! When do you suppose we shall 
ever get to the road to Santiago ? " 

Espanillo halted. 

" What do you stop here for ? Go on ! " 

Espanillo stood panting. 

" Go on, I say ! " 

Mr. Allwrong struck him a blow. 

The arricro turned his face. There was a fearful look in 
his eye. 

" I will go on," he said in a mocking tone. 

He turned from the way. He presently came to the nar- 
row shelf of rock. A stupendous spectacle opened before 
the traveller's eyes. 

Afar, loomed snow mountains, like the tents of gods or 
Titans. Afar, stretched the world, the lower peaks, the green 
pampas, the slanting sky in the light of the sun. 

Espanillo went to the edge of the cliff, and turned his back 
so that the chair hung over the chasm. 

"What are you doing now, you dog?" asked Mr. All- 
wrong. 

He looked down. The mountain wall descended thousands 
of feet, and the chasm below was awful to behold. 



THE CONDUCTOR S STORY. 259 

"This is a hard world," said Espanillo, " and now the time 
has come for you to go where you will be better off." 

He began to unloose the straps that bound the chair to his 
back. 

" Let me get down," cried Mr. Allwrong, shaking in 
alarm. 

" Well, get down. It is a far way clown, and all your com- 
plainings will be over when you shall arrive there." 

"You dog! you villain! Oh, no, amigo, aviigo ! I never 
will find fault any more. Let me down, and I will walk the 
rest of the way ! I am wrong — all wrong, all wrong ! " 

Espanillo tightened the straps again, and Mr. Allwrong 
dismounted, and the two, leading the mule, walked over the 
Cumbre. 

" I would not see such a sight as that was again for all the 
gold of Peru," he used to say. "Think of me hanging over 
a cliff in a chair on that man's back, and he unloosing the 
straps. It shuts my eyes to think of it. There are some 
people that we never want to meet again in this world or any 
other." 

There are. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY OF THE MULETEER OF COQUIMBO 

THE NEWSPAPER MAN'S STORY OF GENERAL PRINGLE 

AND THE " STEP OF VICTORY." 

THE old arricro, Flores, was next asked for a story. 
He was an Argentine, but he spoke English well. He 
had been over the Cordillera hundreds of times, and in all 
weathers, and had seen hard service. He was proud to be 
an arricro, for the guides of the Andes have made a reputa- 
tion for honor. 

THE MULETEER OF COQUIMBO AND HIS SADDLE OF GOLD. 

There is true friendship in the heart of a muleteer. It 
makes him happy to show a stranger that he cares more for 
his integrity, and for the good reputation of his profession, 
than for himself. 

The calling to be a guide in these perilous regions is no 
mean occupation. The character that can be trusted alone 
amid mountain passes and over pampas is no unworthy 
subject for study. There have been crafty and dangerous 
muleteers, but in most places in South America such guides 
have been exceptions to the rule of simple honesty and 
native worth. 

Old Jose of Coquimbo was one of these men of native 

260 



THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY. 26 1 

worth. His character had made such an impression on the 
owners of the mines in the mountains, who lived on the 
coast, that they would send him on long journeys with 
bags of doubloons to pay the men working in the mines. 

The miners would as soon have thought of trying to rob 
an English bishop, or even the pope himself, — did the pope 
ever travel, — as the honest old muleteer, amigo Jose. 

It was many years ago. The mines had been yielding 
well, and many peons, or laborers, had been sent to them. A 
large payment in gold was due these men. 

The treasurer of the great mining company thought it wise 
to entrust the whole amount of gold due, to the old muleteer, 
amigo Jose, — friend Jose. 

"Amigo Jose," said the treasurer, " it is a heavy weight 
of doubloons that I am going to entrust to you now, but I 
know that you will convey it safely." 

" I will do with it as though it were my own," said Jose. 

" I know that you will," said the treasurer. " Character 
with you is more than gold." 

Jose turned his sombrero and echoed, " Senor, character 
is more than gold, — it is the gold of God. Heaven forbid 
that old Jose should ever forfeit that ! " 

The treasurer brought out from his office a long bag. In 
the bottom of it was a heavy weight of gold doubloons. He 
removed the saddle from the mule that the old man was to 
ride, and divided the gold in the bag into two parts, so that 
one part might hang on one side of the mule and the other 
on the other side. Now half of the weight of the doubloons 
was on the side of the string that tied the bag. "A hundred 
doubloons," said the treasurer. 



262 OVER THE ANDES. 

He examined the string and thought it secure. He then 
placed the saddle on the bag so as to cover it, and put a 
heavy blanket over the saddle so as to cover the whole. 
"Two hundred doubloons!" 

Old Jose mounted the mule. He had put on his largest 
poncho, which as he rode nearly covered the mule. 

"Amigo Jose, it is a fortune that you carry, but any one 
who has the gold of God in the purse of his heart can be 
trusted with the gold of the world. I could trust you with 
all the gold of Peru." 

It makes one true to be regarded as true, and never did 
there ride out of Coquimbo a more honest heart than friend 
Jose. 

"Stop," said the treasurer, after he had gone a little way. 
The old man halted, and the treasurer examined the bag 
again. " Two hundred doubloons, one hundred on each side, 
— a saddle of gold ! " 

He then patted the mule on the head, and said, "Adzos" 
to the treasure-bearer. 

It is wise to be careful ; but the careful are not always 
wise. The jolt of the mule will soon make a bag-string 
loose, and a long journey will cause it to slip clown and off. 

The old man rode on. Night came, with a clear heaven 
and the glory of the stars. 

Old Jose loved to ride alone in the desert with the stars 
overhead. His consciousness of honesty made the stars 
seem friendly to him. He felt a oneness with the great spirit 
that filled all created things. 

He rode on. The great moon arose over the far mountains, 
like a sun of night. His thoughts were caught up. On and 



THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY. 263 

on he rode, and at last the mule lagged, and he stopped her, 
and dismounted, and prepared to lie down to rest all alone, 
under the moon and stars. He put his hand under the 
saddle on one side. The treasure was there, firm and heavy. 
He put his hand under the leather on the other side, the 
side on which was the string. His heart leaped. The string 
was untied, the half of the bag was open, and the doubloons 
that had been placed there were gone. 

Where ? He had made a long journey. When ? He had 
not heard anything drop. But the sands were soft, and his 
thoughts had been in the skies. 

The old man felt a chill run through his body. " God 
help me now ! " he cried. " Why should such a thing happen 
to me ? " 

What was he to do ? The coins had dropped out of the 
bag into the sands over which he might have passed hours 
ago. 

He put his withered hand on his forehead and thought. 

" My character in this world is gone," he cried; "but God 
knows that my soul is true. My heart aches, my brain burns. 
O that God would let me take my life ! — but that can 
never be. Why should an honest man be compelled to live 
to suffer ? " 

He stood in the midst of the great white desert with up- 
lifted hands. 

"The tears come to my eyes," he said ; "but they can go 
no further, for I am an honest man ! " 

He could not go back in the* night — he felt that he could 
not go forward without the gold. He must wait for the 
sunrise. 



264 OVER THE ANDES. 

He faced the sands, then sunk down on the earth to watch 
the great clock of the stars in the heavens. 

The stars rose and set ; there was a pearl-gray light in the 
east, and a crimson flush followed. He could see the sand 
clearly now, and he must go back. 

Suddenly a caravan of muleteers and mules appeared in 
the distance. The muleteers had been riding over the way 
that he had passed the afternoon before. 

" Heaven be praised ! I know them all ; they are all 
honest men. It was I, old Jose, who taught them how to 
carry merchandise. They are honest men, — they are, yes, 
they are ! " 

Arturo, Basilio, Carlos, Domingo, Enriquo, and Felipo, with 
four others, and a long train of pack-mules behind them. 

The day brightened. The caravan drew near. Arturo, 
Basilio, Carlos, Domingo, Enriquo, and Felipo were swinging 
their sombreros and shouting. 

"They are not often so merry," said old Jose. "They 
would not be so light if they knew how my heart is torn. 
What hours of agony I have passed ! God forbid that I 
should feel the fires of remorse — that would be hell." 

Arturo came riding up. 

" Jose, padre, what have you lost ? " 

"All but a half bag of doubloons and my soul. What 
hast thou found ? " 

" Ten doubloons." 

" Where didst thou find them ? " 

" Scattered in the sand." 

" Brother, they are mine." 

"Thine they are, amigo Jose, mi padre." 



THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY. 265 

Basilio rode up. 

"Awigo Jose, what hast thou lost ? " 

" Ninety doubloons. What hast thou found ? " 

"Ten doubloons. They are thine, father Jose." 

Carlos came next. 

" Jose, what hast thou lost ? " 

" Eighty doubloons. What hast thou found ? " 

"Ten doubloons. They are thine." 

Then came Domingo. 

"Jose, amigo, how much hast thou lost?" 

"Seventy doubloons." 

" Here are ten of them." 

Enriquo came to the front. 

" I have ten doubloons for thee, friend Jose." 

Then came the others. They each brought ten doub- 
loons which they had by agreement divided between them, 
excepting the last. 

This last muleteer said, " Jose, how much have you 
lost ? " 

" Ten doubloons. What have you found ? " 

" I have found nine." 

" I have lost only one doubloon. I have found ninety- 
nine in your honest souls." 

The sun was rising in a clear sky, — a crimson splendor 
in a sea of gold. Old Jose took off his sombrero, and sunk 
on his knees on the sand. 

Then he rose up and said, — 

" But where is the one doubloon ? " 

" It has not been found," said Arturo. " I think the foot 
of a mule must have pressed it into the sand." 



266 OVER THE ANDES. 

" But I have not a doubloon to make good the loss. What 
shall I do ? " 

" Trust to us," said the ten. 

The ten made up the value of a doubloon between them 
and changed it into a doubloon. 

"My example did this," said old Jose. "All the world 
becomes to us what we are ourselves." 

And he took off his sombrero again, and sunk upon his 
knees on the sand. 

Then they journeyed on, — eleven happy muleteers; and 
old Jose, with the end of a long cord in his hand which 
bound the top of the bag, rode singing a morning song on 
his saddle of gold. 

The newspaper poet was next asked for a story. He 
read one which he had composed in Buenos Ayres, and had 
written down in his note-book. It was the story of General 
Pringle's exploit, — a school tale in these countries. General 
Pringle's name adorns streets and public places in the cities 
of the Andes. On being surrounded by the Spanish troops 
in the war of liberation, after most of his men had been 
killed, he leaped, with two or more companions-in-arms, over 
a bluff on the coast of Peru into the sea. 

THE STEP OF VICTORY. 



The long white line of Andes shone 
The wide Pacific o 1 er, 
And fiercely gleamed the rainless sky 
Upon the waveless shore. 



THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY. 267 

'Twas on those days when Liberty 

Her Austral flag unrolled, 

And Argentina's heroes climbed 

The high plateaus of gold 

The Incarial realm to free ; 

The Peruvian realm to free. 

And General Pringle from the sky 

Marched downward to the sea, 

To help Peru to gain 

Her liberty from Spain. 

To dare, to do, or die, 

And fought at white Chancai. 



'Twas where white Pescadores beach 

Loomed palmless in the sun, 

There ten were Alvarado's men 

To General Pringle's one. 

" Shall shame o'ertake us ? " Pringle cried, 

When all were slain but three 

Of those he led ; " the sea-walls ride, 

And leap into the sea! 

We will not perish till we've tried 

The step of victory ! " 

He spurred his steed along the cliff, 

Swift followed by the three ; 

He leaped into the air, and took 

The step of victory, — 

The hero of Chancai, 

Whose name now makes the marbles bloom 

With flowers that never die ! 



The Argentines beheld his steed — 

A glorious steed was he — 

Leap to the air, and Pringle bear 

Unconquered to the sea. 

And they recalled the words of flame 



268 OVER THE ANDES. 

He spoke in Argentina's name : 

" The brave, whate'er may be their lot, 

While hope remains, surrender not ! 

True to the last for honor's sake, 

The hero may forever take 

The step of victory." 

O heroes of Chancai, 

Wilt thou unloose thy reins like him, 

And unsurrendered die ? 



Three horses leaped into the sun, 

And sunk into the sea. 

Three horses swam the sea as one, 

And bore their riders free. 

And Alvarado up the height 

Upon his charger sped. 

" Halt ! halt ! O English Argentine, 

Where goest thou ? " he said. 

Before him lay the shady sea, 

Above, the peaks of fire. 

Below, four heroes on their steeds, 

Whom none could rob of deathless deeds ; 

He cooled his Spanish ire, 

The victory of the vanquished then 

His eye of vision saw ; 

He stayed his hand, as fifty men, 

With fifty guns above the shore, 

Levelled their deadly aim on four 

Grand heroes of the war, 

Four heroes of Chancai. 

'Tis those who spare, as those who dare, 

Whose names shall never die. 



Four horsemen swam the burning sea, 
'Neath fifty guns of death ; 
And o'er them Alvarado white 
Swept with his sword the sunset light, 



THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY. 269 

And called with trumpet breath : 

" Fire not, my men ; — acclaim ! 

Return, ye glorious Argentines! 

For you the ages thrill, 

The sun forever shines ; 

Return in honor's name. 

The victory of the vanquished still 

Shall crown your heads with fame." 

Four cavaliers rode up the shore, 

Unconquered in the sun, 

And long for those who went and came 

Blew Argentina's trump of fame, 

Three trumps for General Pringle's name, 

For Alvarado, one! 

The heroes of Chancai, 

Their deed became a star to shine 

In Argentina's sky ; 

Their legend, like a prophet's voice, 

Haunts Pescadores' sea, 

And as the ships pass by, 

Their flags the captains fly, 

For honor's glorious sake, 

Beneath the Andean sky. 

The brave surrender not, but take 

The step of victory ! 



A YERBA-MATE TALE. 

"It is going to be a cold night," said the cook to Uncle 
Henry. " I will make you some mate and some casnela." 

"Benigna sea Deos," said a traveller from Concepcion. 
This man's name was Velludo. He had served in the Eng- 
lish consulate in Concepcion. "Benigna sea Deos/" (May 
the Lord be praised !) 

What there was in the cook's suggestion to call forth such 



27O OVER THE ANDES. 

a devout expression, Our Boys were quite unable to compre- 
hend. They knew that the ycrba-mate was the favorite 
drink of these countries, and had heard that the casuela, or 
soup, was a very fiery compound. 

"Senor Velludo," said the elder arriero, "there has been 
many a good story told over the bombilla (the mate tube). 
Could you not tell us one on a night like this?" 

Velludo shrugged his shoulders. 

"The favorite stories here are those of the poet Ercilla," 
he said, "who was a kind of Virgil to the Araucanian heroes. 

" The classic field of Chili is Araucania. One of the 
Araucanian tales in some respects resembles that of the 
Trojan horse, though there was no horse in the case." 

" Kindly give us that story on this most dismal night," said 
Uncle Henry. 

The company gathered close to the fire. The cook brought 
a large copper jar filled with water, and placed it over the 
coals to heat. He put a number of large gourds upon the 
table and a single silver tube — a bombilla. He presently set 
down beside this a tin can, with two compartments, one of 
which was partly filled with mate, and the other with sugar. 

Velludo began his tale. 

" The Araucanians were never conquered. They believed 
that their heroes ascended to the sun, and became stars, and 
that they nightly marched through the heavens in their 
armors of light. When Mendoza came down from Peru to 
found Concepcion, he found the race unconquered, and left 
them defeated but not conquered. 

" There lived a chief in those days named Caupolitan or 
Caupolican. He resolved to dislodge Mendoza from the 



THE MOUNTAINEERS STORY. 27 1 

coast. He met him in battle, was defeated, and fell a 
prisoner into the hands of the invader. 

"When the wife of the chief found that he had been capt- 
ured, she went to him carrying her son, a babe. 

"'Take him,' she exclaimed, with the spirit of her race ; ' let 
him share your fate. I would be ashamed to nourish the son 
of a chief who would be taken captive alive ! ' 

"The Araucanians, finding themselves unable to dislodge 
the Spaniards, determined in a secret council to destroy them 
by strategy. 

"They planned to do this by the aid of some of the cap- 
tives, who were employed within the walls of the fortress that 
the Spanish had erected. 

" They sent spies to the fortress, and these sought to find a 
trusty confidant. They thought that they had done so in the 
person of a captive named Andresillo. He listened to the 
plan eagerly, and promised them his assistance. 

" ' At what time should we attack the fortress ? ' asked 
the spies. 

"'At noon.' 

" ' Why at noon ? ' 

" ' The Spanish take their siestas then, and the gates of 
the fortress are closed. The officers are off their guard.' 

" ' But the gates are closed.' 

" ' I will open them to you.' 

" ' We will hide our men in the thicket at night, and they 
shall remain there until noon. At high noon you will un- 
fasten the gates?' 

" ' At high noon I will let you in.' 

" The day for the surprise was set, and the spies went away. 



272 OVER THE ANDES. 

"Andresillo saw an opportunity to gain wealth and fame 
by betraying the Araucanians. He disclosed the secret to 
the Spaniards. The latter hailed him as a hero, and they 
counselled together to allure the army into the fortress after 
their own plan, and to destroy them all. 

" ' We will close the gates,' said they to the traitor, ' and 
pretend to be asleep ; and you shall open the gates, and cau- 
tion them to be very still in their movements, until all are 
inside. Then you shall close the gates, and put them under 
guard.' 

" The Araucanians came stealthily at the appointed hour. 
The gates opened, Andresillo was there. 

" ' Still, still,' said he. ' They are all asleep. Enter silently.' 

" The Spaniards seemed to be lost in slumber under their 
blankets and covers. 

" ' Cautiously, cautiously,' said the cunning Andresillo. 

" When all were inside, a wild cry arose at a given signal. 
The gates were closed, and the Araucanians were put to 
the sword, or captured, to be tortured after the most terrible 
forms that the imagination could invent. 

" It was not so that the Greeks took Troy ; but so the 
Spaniards captured the Araucanians." 

While Velludo was relating this story, the Argentine cook 
had been preparing the casuela, or, as he called it, the casuela 
de ave. 

Velludo proceeded to describe the terrible death of the 
captive chieftain, Caupolitan, which was by empalement. 
The invaders baptized him before putting him to torture. 
In the midst of the thrilling narration, the cook announced 
that the mate was ready, and proceeded to pass around the 



THE MOUNTAINEER'S STORY. 273 

gourds, which he filled with hot water. He then scorched 
the sugar, and put a pinch of the Paraguay tea or mate into 
each gourd, and afterwards the burnt sugar. He then 
handed to the Englishman the bombilla. The latter sucked 
the tea from his gourd with relish. 

He then took the bombilla from him, and handed it to 
Velludo. He used it, and passed it to Arline. 

" The same bombilla ? " ventured Arline. 

Uncle Henry whispered: "Yes, Arline, the same bombilla. 
It is the custom of the country : to refuse it is to give offence ; 
the hospitable cook would be offended if you were to refuse 
it in that way." 

Arline complied with the customs of the country, as did 
Alonzo and Leigh. 

The mate was excellent, but the manner of receiving it 
lost for it its relish with the English travellers. 

The soup was now served. 

The Englishman took one spoonful and cried : " Oh, mur- 
der ! Water! I'm on fire, — my throat is all burning up! 
What is this — melted lead ? " 

He doubled over, coughing, and at times turning his head 
with wrathful, watery eyes towards the alarmed cook. 

Arline picked out a few morsels of the ave, and tears 
began to course down her cheeks. Alonzo was cautious, as 
also Leigh. 

" What is the matter ? " asked the generous cook of Arline. 
" Why do you not eat ? What would you have ? more aji 
(pepper)?" 

Loro seemed surprised, and echoed the cook, — " What 
is the matter ? " 



274 



OVER THE ANDES. 



The Argentines ate the soup with relish. 

" They must be lined with iron," said the Englishman, who 
openly rebelled at the hospitalities of the country. " That," 
said he, " is what I should call liquid fire. A bowlful of that 
would cremate a man." 

He drank the mate from his gourd without the bombilla, 
when the cook's back was turned, and Our Boys followed his 
example. 

" More ajiV asked the cook of him, coming back. 

The Englishmen threw up his hands and shook his head 
in silence. He picked out a part of the vegetables as Arline 
had done, and ate them very, very slowly. He had never 
eaten so slowly before in all his life, and he whispered to 
Arline, " It takes time to eat fire." He looked towards the 
cook and said, "Bueno." He added, " I mean him!" 



CHAPTER XXV. 

AN UNEXPECTED EPISODE — TERROR — MORNING IN THE 

ANDES. 

THE conductor rose early in the morning and opened 
the door of the posada. It had ceased to snow, and 
the wind had gone down. The whole outside world was 
white, — the peaks, the valley, the quebradas (ravines), the 
posada. 

Mr. Cottle, the Englishman, groaned. 

" Pray shut the door ! " he cried. " I am going to have 
one of my rheumatic turns. I can feel it coming on now. 
What would you do if all my joints were to turn stiff — 
they do sometimes ; you would not go off and leave me 
here ? " 

"No, no," said the arriero ; "we would roll you all up in 
blankets and mount you on a pack-mule. We cannot go 
forward to-day ; the passes are full of snow. We must stay 
here. To-night the snow will harden." 

The mules were braying. 

" Did my ears ever hear such sounds as these ! " said Mr. 

Cottle. " These are the notes of woe, if ever they were 

sounded. They just express my feelings. I never want to 

come up to the top of the world again. What did I come 

for?" 

27s 



276 OVER THE ANDES. 

When the door was opened again, the outside scene was 
a dazzling splendor. Everything was glistening ; the sun 
was struggling with the clouds, which were breaking in 
pearly hues. 

Mr. Cottle looked out and saw the rising of the sun, seem- 
ingly rolling through the clouds like a chariot-wheel of gold. 

" That is good for my rheumatism," he said, with an 
Inca-like expectation. 

He called upon the cook to make a hot fire, and then 
said, — 

" I will try to arise, and see if the coral snake has got 
out." 

He presently appeared before the fire, to hear Loro ask, — 

" What is the matter ? " 

The coral snake had not " got out," nor had the bees. 
Breakfast was served, and Mr. Cottle declared that he never 
before had eaten a meal with such a relish. 

At noon the sun shone clear in a blue sky. The clouds 
seemed all rolling merrily away, and to be laughing as they 
went. Mr. Cottle became very cheerful. 

"We will have to get up very early to-morrow morning," 
said the conductor, " so that we may pass the valleys while 
the snow is hard. It is near the full of the moon; there 
will be no more snow ; and, as it is clearing warm, the night 
will be glorious. We shall stand on La Cumbre under the 
stars, in the chambers of the sky." 

He was something of a poet, and his figurative language 
disturbed the imagination of nervous Mr. Cottle. " ' The 
chambers of the sky'?" he asked. "You don't expect to 
go up that high, do you?" 



AN UNEXPECTED EPISODE. 277 

" You will be nearer to the stars to-morrow morning than 
you have ever been before," said the conductor. 

" Or shall ever care to be again, in this world," added Mr. 
Cottle. 

Uncle Henry examined his hive of bees. 

"I would give those bees their freedom," said Mr. Cottle, 
" and eat the honey ; you never will see a day in all your life 
when you will need it more. We might make a pot-pie of 
the birds." 

Arline folded Loro in her poncho ; the bird, however, con- 
trived to wriggle out her head, and inquired again, " What is 
the matter ? " 

Leigh, in the course of the evening, uttered an exclama- 
tion of surprise and disappointment, — the purple bird had 
died. 

The party grew more cheerful. 

"We must have one or two good stories to-night," said the 
conductor, "and lie down early. The mules will be ready 
to-morrow morning by three o'clock." 

Mr. Cottle's rheumatism, from the time that he saw the 
sun, left him, and he became quite cheerful. It was warm in 
the posada, and after supper the now cheerful Englishman 
was asked for a story, and he related several stories in a 
merry mood. 

There was little sleep in the posada that night. As the 
fire went down poor old Mr. Cottle began to cry out with his 
rheumatism, whose pains came upon him again. 

"Conductor! " he said; " Seiior ! I shall not be able to go 
on in the morning." 

" Yes, yes, my good friend, you will. You will be upon 



278 OVER THE ANDES. 

the top of the planet when the sun rises, and yon will say 
that that sunrise is the most glorious sight that you ever 
saw." 

" Sefior, I am freezing to death ! Senor ! " 

The conductor called upon the cook to rise and make a 
hot fire. The cook obeyed, and the atmosphere changed. 

Suddenly, after the room had become much heated, there 
was a report like a pistol shot. 

"What was that?" cried Mr. Cottle, starting. 

" I will get up and see," said the conductor. 

"The cage has burst open — the fire melted the solder." 

" What cage, Senor ? " asked Uncle Henry. 

" What cage, Senor ? " echoed Alonzo. 

"What cage, Caballerof" screamed Mr. Cottle. 

"The snake cage," was the paralyzing answer of the 
conductor. 

" The snake cage ! " roared Mr. Cottle, starting up from 
his bed like a Jack-in-a-box, and forgetting his rheumatism. 
" He hasn't got out, has he ? " 

" I don't see anything of /mn," said the conductor, put- 
ting on his boots with a jerky motion. 

Alonzo arose, pulling on his boots very concernedly. He 
went to the fire and examined the rent cage with a shovel. 

"Where do you suppose he has gone?" asked Arline. 
" Is Loro safe ? " 

" He hasn't gone into the fire or into the cold. He may 
have crawled into somebody's boots or stockings, or under 
one of the beds." 

" One of the beds ! " cried Mr. Cottle, rolling himself up 
in his blanket. " Heavings ! " 



AN UNEXPECTED EPISODE. 2'/g 

Arline slept near the Spanish women, who were alarmed, 
like the rest of the company. The three followed Mr. Cot- 
tle's example, and rolled themselves up in their blankets. 

" He's crawled into the wall, I guess" said the conductor. 

"He will be harmless in the cold, wherever he may be," 
said old Flores, the arriero. " All go to sleep. I will see 
that no harm comes to any one." 

Twelve o'clock came. The conductor and arrieros went 
out to get ready the mules. At last the conductor came 
back. 

" Will you be able to go on ? " he asked of Mr. Cottle. 

" Go on ? Yes, yes. I had a cold, or something. What 
was it I said that I had ? Well, whatever it was, it is all 
gone now. All the gold in Peru wouldn't tempt me to stay 
in this place any longer than I could mount a mule. Let 
me get up and start now. I'd be willing to ride next to the 
bell-mule. Examine your boots well before you put them 
on. I'm going to shake mine over the fire." 

It was a silver morning. The snow was dazzling white, 
and the full moon shone on the valley and gleamed on the 
crystal peaks. The snow was encrusted, and the party went 
comfortably up to the Cumbre. 

The rocks were as black as ebony, and were the bases of 
crystal pinnacles that seemed to burn with silver fire. 

The air was as silent as it was clear and bright. The mules 
stopped often to breathe. 

"Altura ! " again cried the arriero ; "para altura ! " 

A purple circle surrounded the high peaks. It deepened ; 
it glowed ; it lived. It was near the dawn. 

"Altura!" 



280 OVER THE ANDES. 

The purple circle of light changed into gold, — a resplen- 
dent belt, — as though the earth wore the necklace of heaven. 
This circle, too, deepened and glowed. The night had fled. 

"Altura!" 

The golden circle was changing into crimson. The sun 
was rising, not over plains, hills, or mountains, but from the 
far regions of eternal space. The travellers stopped to breathe 
and to wonder. 

It was morning in the Andes ! 






CHAPTER XXVI. 

MORNING IN THE ANDES TO SANTIAGO DE CHILI THE 

STORY OF PRESIDENT BALMACEDA. 

IT was sunrise on the peaks. On one side of the pass was 
Argentina, on the other side Chili : on one side the far 
Atlantic beyond the pampas, on the other side the near 
Pacific. These scenes were hidden by the black, castle-like 
peaks crowned with crystal. In this chain of giant eleva- 
tions, though unseen from La Cumbre, rose Aconcagua, the 
monarch of the American mountain world. 

If that mountain could speak, what tales it might tell : of 
chaos ; of primeval existences ; of the days when all of these 
peaks now mantled with snow flamed with fire ! 

"The hardest part of the journey is yet to come," said 
Flores, the arriero. 

He spoke truly. It was the going down that was most 
perilous. With the mule's body for a great part of the way 
at an angle of forty-five degrees, the difficulty for one was 
to keep from going down over his head. 

After some hours of these terrors, the party came to a 
posada, and those who desired carriages were offered them. 
Our party and Mr. Cottle were glad to see carriages. 

Even in the carriages the way was perilous. There were 
places where an accident to harness or wheel might have 

281 



282 OVER THE ANDES. 

ended in fatal disaster. It was fearful to look down from 
some of the shelves of rock over which the vehicles passed. 

The earth began to turn green. Gardens of fruit appeared ; 
palms ; villas ; fields of lucerne. 

Then the world all burst into bloom. The waysides rippled 
with water and glowed with flowers. There were vineyards 
here and there ; and there were bright, happy faces every- 
where. 

Loro began to scream, "Aqiri! alii! lielo!" new words 
to Arline's ears. 

" Los Andes ! " exclaimed the driver, as they came to a 
bowery town, and to an inn all balconies and vines. 

"Thank Heaven that we are here! " said Mr. Cottle, with 
a beaming face. " Haven't we had a merry journey ! I 
would like to go over the Cordillera again. I hope I haven't 
brought away the coral snake in any of my belongings. It 
was he who cured me of my rheumatism. A great journey 
this has been to me ! " 

The party, including Mr. Cottle, who had become most 
gracious, now stopped a day in the vine-clad inn, and then 
set out for Santiago de Chili. 

The land was bloom, the air was balm, and in these celestial 
atmospheres the wonderful mocking-bird began to sing. It 
was a glorious song. When Loro heard it, she cheered, 
or rather uttered new words, con mucho gusto, one of which 
was hazana, in appreciation of a noble deed. 

We now find Our Boys in Chili. Dr. Dee, the missionary 
traveller, in a little book published in Buenos Ayres, gives 
a vivid picture of the Chilenos, and we copy from it by 
permission : — 



MORNING IN THE ANDES. 283 



THE CHILIANS. 

" What do I think of the Chilians ? " says the Doctor, in 
this delightful little book. " My impressions are made up of 
many elements. The race type shows clear traces of the 
mixed Spanish and Araucanian ancestry which it can boast. 
One thinks of old Pedro de Valdivia, with his handful of 
hardy Castilian followers, besieged upon the isolated rock 
of Santa Lucia, reduced to subsist upon the wild onions 
of the forest; yet with invincible perseverance, and what 
might well seem presumptuous faith in the prowess of his 
own right arm, laying out around his fortress the plan of a 
future capital and metropolis. Then one's thoughts turn to 
those most indomitable of American savages — the Arau- 
canians — who, after three centuries and a half, have not 
even yet been reduced to complete subjection. Here is an 
ancestry which might well bequeath to their descendants, 
together with a narrow home between inaccessible mountains 
and the thundering ocean, amid wild valleys and with an 
inevitable and constant struggle for existence, such char- 
acteristics as we find in the Chilians of to-day. Ancestry 
and environment may well explain the nervous activity and 
enterprise ; the fierce, headlong valor ; the implacable spirit 
of revenge ; the jealous dislike and suspicion of foreigners ; 
the greed of conquest ; the love of extravagant display which 
may be noted in this people — qualities most of them which 
have their admirable as well as their execrable side. You 
sympathize with the Chilian in his intense love of country 
and utter devotion to her interests; but you smile inwardly 



284 OVER THE ANDES. 

and almost despise him when you find him sillily boastful of 
the superiority of his country in the most trivial things, and 
utterly blind to, or envious of, the manifest superiority of 
some of the sister nations of South America in gifts of 
nature which argue neither virtue nor real superiority in the 
possessor. 

" You admire the evidences of thrift and enterprise which 
you find in Valparaiso and Santiago ; but you are filled with 
indignation when you read or hear of the shameless greed 
with which Chilian officers of low and high station robbed 
prostrate Peru of public and private works of adornment 
and use, filling returning transports with pianos and furni- 
ture, carpets and tapestries, pictures and statues, taken from 
the homes and public buildings and parks of Lima. 

" Your blood thrills, and you are ready to doff your hat in 
the presence of the monuments of the dead heroes who 
glorified the headlong enthusiasm and fierce valor which 
knew no fear on the field of battle and rushed over all ob- 
stacles to constant victory ; but you shudder with horror 
when you read of the vindictive rage and ungenerous hate 
which would neither give nor take quarter, and the brutal 
savagery which cut the throats of helpless, wounded men, 
and utterly reversed the relative statistics of killed and 
wounded in the records of a war running through years. 

" You prophesy prosperity for a country whose laboring 
class are active, industrious, and efficient ; but you doubt the 
realization of your own augury when you learn that the 
Chilian workmen are utterly jealous and intolerant of foreign 
immigrants, driving them by hundreds to seek refuge on the 
eastern side of the Andes. 



MORNING IN THE ANDES. 285 

" You find yourself in what is thought to be the model of 
Spanish-American republics, and yet you are struck with the 
existence of social lines of caste which utterly belie the prin- 
ciple that ' all men are born free and equal.' The roto, 
turbulent and fierce as he is, and ready with the knife, will 
meekly submit to abuse, and even to blows, from a man in 
a frock coat and tall hat. This idea of class distinctions 
pervades the whole structure of society, and runs down 
into lines of separation between servants of different em- 
ployments. 

" In the wealthy classes you find a great love of extrava- 
gant display in house and equipage. A scion of one of the 
richest families of Buenos Ayres, travelling with us, ex- 
pressed his astonishment at the scale of magnificence on 
which he found certain private bouses of Santiago fur- 
nished. Hand-woven and hand-embroidered silk hangings; 
upholstery materials which cost five hundred dollars gold 
the square metre; a pair of curtains worth sixty thousand 
dollars; twenty-two handsome carriages in the coach-house 
of one residence, and a multitude of other items mark the 
ornamentation and outfit of a Santiago house in which the 
mistress has never yet set foot. 

" The people are great lovers of amusement and outdoor 
pleasures. The theatre, the alameda, seaside and mountain 
resorts, are much patronized. 

" The commerce of the country is chiefly in the hands 
of English, German, and French merchants ; the mines and 
landed estates belong in the greater part to the old Chilian 
families. 

" The future of the country promises to be marked by 



286 OVER THE ANDES. 

increasing wealth and prosperity, but will depend much 
upon her relations with the Argentine Republic. The two 
nations are so related to each other, and the natural re- 
sources of each are of such a character, that, if cordial, 
reciprocal relations are maintained, they may jointly march 
on in a career of prosperity and widening influence over the 
destiny of the continent. Mutual jealousy and suspicion, if 
not hostility, seem, however, more likely to prevail for years 
to come. 

" Nations, as well as individuals, learn wisdom ever in the 
hard school of experience rather than in the law and the 
gospel, which are man's safest and best guide." 

THE GOVERNMENT OF CHILI. 

The Chilian Republic is the most remote on the continent 
from the great republic of the North ; it rises between the 
Atlantic and the Pacific, and the mountain dome of Acon- 
cagua seems to tower over it like a crown. After achieving 
its independence from Spain, it adopted the republican form 
of government, and established it under a constitution in 

i833- 

The population was then less than a million; it is now 

more than three million, and the revenues have increased 
some sixty fold. Her constitution is liberal. Toleration is 
accorded to all religious beliefs, and all who can read and 
write are entitled to vote. 

The executive power is placed in the hands of the Presi- 
dent, as in the United States, and this executive officer is 
elected every five years. In other respects the Chilian 



MORNING IN THE ANDES. 287 

government closely resembles our own. It has two houses 
of Congress, and these are elected by the people, and the 
members serve the Republic without remuneration. 

The first President of the Republic was General Prieto, 
who was re-elected (183 1- 1 841). General Balnes succeeded 
him, and was re-elected (i 851-186 1). It speaks well for Chili 
that she re-elects her faithful public officials and that her 
great presidents have been honored by a second term of office. 

Balmaceda, a very dramatic figure in Chilian politics, was 
elected in 1886. He was a man of liberal views, who ad- 
vocated a great enlargement in education, the separation 
of church and state, civil marriages, and many reforms, and 
who had rendered his country distinguished services. He 
became very ambitious for the success of his own measures, 
and is accused of assuming dictatorial power, which led to 
a revolution that ended in his death. 

At the Valparaiso consulate the boys asked an official, 
who was interested in the history of the country, to tell them 

THE STORY OF BALMACEDA. 

"Jose Manuel Balmaceda," said the officer, who was an 
old resident in the country, "was born of ancient and noble 
Castilian family in 1840. He was educated in the Seminario 
Concilias of Santiago, in the expectation that he would enter 
the priesthood. But he had an ardent nature, and politics 
filled his brain. He joined the Reform Club, and became a 
leader among young men of advanced ideas. He saw the 
new age, that liberal ideas were everywhere on the march, 



288 OVER THE ANDES. 

and he espoused the cause of the people in the spirit of the 
Gracchi, and met their fate. 

"He was an orator, and he came forward as a leader of 
the cause that sought to liberalize the constitution. He 
entered Congress at the age of twenty-eight, — brilliant, 
accomplished, popular ; Chili saw in him a rising star, and 
he became the natural leader of the Liberal party, composed 
of progressive men, and especially of progressive young 
men. 

" Like Sarmiento, he saw the power of education in devel- 
oping a great nation, that there was no darkness like that of 
ignorance, and that the glory of the Northern Republic was 
her schools. He favored the education of the people for the 
progress of the Republic, and although he was opposed by 
the Conservatives, his star brightened. 

" He served five terms in Congress, became a minister of 
the interior, a senator, a foreign minister. He was elected 
President on September 18, 1886, by an overwhelming 
majority, after one of the most brilliant political careers in 
the history of the Republic. 

" When he was inaugurated, he was the idol of the people. 
The expectation of the Republic centred in him. He was 
expected to lead Chili to glory, and to place her foremost 
among the liberal nations of the Austral world. In the first 
three years of his office, his popularity hardly abated. Chili 
advanced and made wonderful political and educational 
progress. Railroads were built ; the harbors were improved ; 
a North American system of normal schools was established 
to make competent teachers for the whole people. In the 
rush of new ideas and new light, political opposition to him 



MORNING IN THE ANDES. 289 

almost disappeared. He was the state, — its brain, its heart, its 
representative. It seemed impossible that this man could fall. 

" But there were not wanting those who looked upon the 
reforms as the overthrow of ancient rights. The established 
church felt that their prerogatives had been invaded. The 
old capitalists thought that their power was being imperilled. 
The Conservative mind reacted against the rapid advance- 
ment of new thought. 

" Balmaceda could now have made himself glorious by- 
surrendering his office to the requirements of the constitution 
and the will of the people. But ' he that saveth his life, shall 
lose it.' How could he take his heart out of these reforms? 
His life was in them. He changed. He sought to hold his 
power by indirection. From the splendid Liberal leader, fore- 
most in enlightened and progressive thought, he became an 
autocrat. The opposition to him grew. The people changed. 
They had good reasons to change, for the constitution was 
being violated. The Congress, the navy, and a large part of 
the people revolted. A bill was passed by Congress, placing 
the electoral management under the control of the munici- 
palities. Balmaceda vetoed this bill, and so a conflict arose 
between the executive and legislative powers. 

" In this crisis he proclaimed himself military dictator, and 
then followed war. 

"In this conflict he had thirty thousand men under arms. 
A provisional government was formed, and conflicts followed 
on the land and on the sea. 

" In August, 1890, the Waterloo of Balmaceda came near 
Valparaiso. The dictator was at the head of a powerful 
army ; the constitutionalists were apparently weak ; but they 



29O OVER THE ANDES. 

were strong in generalship and the arts of war, and the army 
of Balmaceda was outgeneralled, deprived of its ammunition 
and shattered, and the dictator found himself a fugitive. 

" The victorious army entered the capital in a triumph. 

" Balmaceda had vanished. A hunt for the fallen dictator 
was begun. It was a time of terror and of vengeance. The 
dead generals of the vanquished leader were paraded through 
the streets of Valparaiso. The wounded in the field were 
killed. The friends of Balmaceda fled in every direction, 
and their houses were burned. What a sunset of life for 
such a morning ! Balmaceda, — where was he ? 

" ' He is on board the American gunboat, the " San Fran- 
cisco," ' passed from lip to lip. Then the Americans in this 
part of the country were no longer safe. The suspicion made 
them the objects of popular fury. 

" The congressional government sought to stay the violence 
of the people, but in vain. 

" Balmaceda had hoped to escape from the country ; but all 
avenues seemed closed against him. He hid in the Argen- 
tine consulate. There was no safety for him here. He did 
not dare to throw himself upon the mercy of the people. He 
made a fatal resolution, and ended his life with a pistol shot 
September 19th." 

The party arrived at Santiago, late one burning afternoon. 
What a beautiful city it was ! The wealth of the world 
seemed to be here. 

They went to the English college, where they had friends, 
the La Fetras ; there they were warmly received, and made 
to feel at home under the dome of Aconcagua and the sunset 
walls of the Sierras. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS — LEIGH WISHES TO STUDY IN 
SANTIAGO — A REMINISCENCE OF A NIGHT IN THE ANDES. 

THE English college at Santiago greatly interested Leigh. 
" It is my plan," he said to Uncle Henry, " to stop 
here and study." 

"What do you wish to study most?" asked Uncle Henry. 

" The Spanish language, and English and Spanish litera- 
ture." 

" I know of no more fitting place for such studies than 
here," said Uncle Henry. " But you are now making an 
educational journey. You may like to return here and 
study." 

Mr. Warrener was to remain here and study for a year. 
Leigh would have been willing to give up the remainder 
of the proposed journey for this opportunity of study in his 
companionship, but he knew that Uncle Henry had planned 
what was best for him. But this school won his heart. 
He found an atmosphere which his soul seemed to recognize 
here. 

He was introduced by Mr. Warrener to several literary 
people, who quoted poets of whom he had never heard. Had 
South America a distinct literature ? Had she true poets ? 
If she had true poets, how noble, sublime, and patriotic their 

291 



292 OVER THE ANDES. 

work must be, when and where there are such thrilling 
scenes and records of events to inspire them ! 

Leigh began the study of the South American favorite 
poets, — of those whose poems were best known. He asked 
Mr. Warrener, who seemed to be quite familiar with popular 
South American verse, to give him a little lecture on the 
writers of Spanish America who were most read, quoted, and 
known to the schools: "The reading-book and choice-selec- 
tion poets," as he termed them. Mr. Warrener was an en- 
thusiast, and had caught the ardor of the South American 
school of verse. Leigh enjoyed his lively imagination. 

Mr. Warrener made a review of these; "imperfectly," as 
he said, but with poetic feeling, in the following narrative : — 

POPULAR SPANISH-AMERICAN POEMS. 

Some of the most beautiful and sympathetic interpreta- 
tions of life in verse that have been made during recent 
years, have come from the pens of the American-Latin 
poets, and yet these writers are but little read outside of 
their own countries. The list of those who have written 
inspired poems in the present generation in the mellow and 
melodious language of Calderon and Cervantes is long, and 
it includes those whose personal history has been as remark- 
able and picturesque as the work that they have produced. 
In South America the poems that have found favor have 
been voices of life ; the experience has been the soil of the 
orchid, and the reason for it ; in the land of picture and 
bloom, of the billowy pampas and the gleaming Andes, 
poems are the creations of what the singers have felt or 
done — they bloom. 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 293 

During a recent visit to the Argentine Republic and to 
Chili it was my privilege to meet Senor Don de la Barra, 
the friend of Balmaceda, and once the Chilian Minister to 
England, the author of several books on Greek forms of 
verse and on rhythmic expression, — one of the most courtly 
and scholarly men in literature. He wrote the grand ode 
which opened the Chilian exposition, — one of the few 
poetic interpretations of art and science that in recent times 
have been adequate to really great occasions. In this ode 
one hears the music of the march of machinery, and finds 
one's heart in the new triumphant progress, and sees the soul 
of the living and inspiring age. 

"Hail, Triumphal Industry! 
Divinity without bloodshed! 
In thy crystal firmament 
Go forth the works of the new Cyclops, 
Resplendent!" 

The wings of the condor in this composition are made to 

gleam over the great workshop of human progress, and with 

this vision in his imagination, the reader is prepared for the 

force of the line, — 

" Come, all nations ! " 

I met in Buenos Ayres, Senor Carlos Guido y Spano, the 
Longfellow of Argentina, a most lovely and beautiful char- 
acter, whose identification of his work with his life is marked. 
He won the hearts of the Argentines by his sympathy with 
the public suffering during the yellow-fever epidemic in 1871. 
He is an old man now : he has come out of life in public 
service with clean hands, and like many who have lived for 
others, has not accumulated a fortune for himself. But he 



294 OVER THE ANDES. 

has gained that which is more than material wealth. The 
people of the purple Republic are very proud of their vener- 
able poet, of his philanthropy and integrity, as well as his 
verse, and they are about to present him a home and a 
tribute out of their ample purses^ that he who has loved them 
may pass his serene old age amid the evidences of their 
grateful affection. He has a beautiful face, refined by the 
sympathies of his thought and heart, and one that recalls 
Longfellow at seventy years of age. There are few poets 
whose lives have been more ideal. 

I shall never forget some of his thoughts when he gra- 
ciously allowed some Americans to make him a visit. 

" I do not know," he said, with a face of illumination, 
"what the value of my verse maybe; but this I do know, 
that the people love me, and in that I am content." The 
words have the spirit of a poem, and they could have been 
spoken only by one who had made a noble poem of his own 
life. 

He was born in 1829. His father was one of the great 
leaders of the liberation. Looking up to the picture of San 
Martin, the liberator of Argentina, Chili, and Peru, and to 
that of his father, who was an inspiration in the great strug- 
gle for liberty, he said, " My father was an eminent man in 
his day: he was better than that, he was a good man." 

He called himself "a child of the people." He has mod- 
estly named his poetical works, " Hojas al Viento " (Leaves 
to the Wind). 

The South American verse is largely confined to three sub- 
jects, — patriotism, love, and the soul. Senor Don de la Barra 
has written a notable work, published in Santiago de Chili, 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 295 

1787, on " Elementos de Metrica Castellana " (Elements of 
Castilian Metres), in which he illustrates the art of the Iberian 
tongue. There is great beauty in the forms of many South 
American poems, and those forms are well worthy of study 
and imitation. The South American poets usually make 
their rhythms after the inspiration of the compelling theme : 
they sing as the joy of the day makes the vibration of the 
wing of the bird ; as the winds find the reeds, and as the 
brook flows. 

The most romantic of the Argentine poets is Don Estevan 
Echevern'a, whose Gaucho-like soul caught the spirit of the 
pampas, and interpreted it to the world. His early home 
seems to have been the saddle, and his Parnassus the purple 
splendors of the plains. He felt the heart of nature beat, 
and what he felt, he wrote. He lived when barbarism was 
dying, and the new age of civilization was flinging into 
the air the golden spears of the dawn. His early fancies 
made little account of the restrictions of the critic. " A 
Savage of the Pampas," he made a voyage to France, and 
his studies in the gay world gave to his after work a certain 
coloring of sentiment and philosophy. In his poem " La 
Cantiva," he describes the vast and solemn pampas, and 
the originality and sweep of his theme and the force of his 
picturing will ever lend the work a fascination which' belongs 
to true interpretation, whatever may be its other defects. 

Don Luis Domingues — poet, liberator, and Argentine 
statesman — was born in Buenos Ayres. After the time 
when he published his first poems, he engaged himself in 
numerous poetic studies for the inspiration and correction 
of his style. He produced many forms of lyrical poems, 



296 OVER THE ANDES. 

and songs of love, of his country, and domestic life, with 
equal power, and described with rare skill the natural his- 
tory and customs of his own land. Besides his articles in 
the periodicals of the Plata, he produced works of merit, — 
among others, the "History of Argentina." He was en- 
gaged in public work in Uruguay and Argentina. He was 
active in the national and provincial congresses of his own 
country, and was eminent for patriotism, social position, and 
worth of character. He, for a time, filled the office of min- 
ister plenipotentiary of Argentina to Peru. 

Don Jose Marmol, whose beautiful tomb is a shrine in 
the marble walks of the Recoleta of the Palermo of Buenos 
Ayres, was of gentle blood. He was for many years the 
librarian of his native city. He had the poetic fire of 
Echevern'a ; he felt the grandeur of his native skies, seas, 
plains, and mountains ; but he united a refined culture with 
his work, and tamed his glowing visions' with the law of art. 
It is delightful to listen to this sympathetic and affluent in- 
terpreter, as he touches his chords to the "Tropics": — 

" The Tropics — shining palace of the Southern Cross, 
Whose founts of life o'er all creation pour 
Their wealth of splendor and their vital power ! 

" When Nature saw her third creation fail, 
She fled the poles and to the Tropics climbed. 
God said, i Enough ' — she was the future world. 

" She caught his breath and his reflected eye, 
And set on high her primal throne of light 
Bathed in the amber of celestial air. 

" She showered roses, oped her crystal springs, 
Her finest carpet she with lilies spread, 
And myrtle flowers, and filled the trees 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 2ty 

With winged songs, and set her bounds 
With rivers longer than the bounds of sea." 

It is a strange event in the history of the literature of the 
lands of the Southern Cross, that Salaverry, the soldier, 
whose end was tragic, should have written the stirring peace 
poem of his own, or of any, age. In this poem the grand 
pulse-beat for humanity is expressed in martial words that 
lose their force by translation : — 

" Ye warriors of freedom, ye champions of right, 

Sheathe your swords to sweet harmony's strains ; 
No bayonet should gleam, and no soldier should fight, 
Where Liberty glorious reigns. 

" Melt your lances to ploughshares, your swords into spades, 
And furrow for harvests your plains ; 
No shock of the battle should startle the shades 
Where glorious Liberty reigns. 

" Nor honor is won from battlefield red, 
Nor glory from tumult and strife ; 
That soldier is only by god-like thought led 
Who offers his country his life." 

Don Juan Godoy, whose sublime and glorious ode to the 
"Cordillera" of the Andes will compare with Coleridge's 
" Hymn in the Valley of Chamouni," was born in Mendoza 
in 1873. He is one of the greatest of the later South Ameri- 
can poets. At Mendoza, San Martin organized his army for 
the liberation of Chili and Peru. The transandine route 
starts from here, at first following the windings of the Men- 
doza River. The Cordillera here is thirteen thousand feet 
high, and over it looms the stupendous dome Tupungato, in 
its winter of eternal silence, sheeted with spotless snow. 



298 OVER THE ANDES. 

Beyond it rises Aconcagua, higher than Mont Blanc would 
be were it to wear Mt. Washington for a hood, and whose 
base is lost in the mysteries of the ocean world. You have 
been in the region. The sight of these peaks probably be- 
came a haunting vision to Godoy, and although before such 
a theme language struggles for utterance, he produced a most 
sublime apostrophe, — one that to read is an eternal recollec- 
tion. 

Some of the thoughts of this apostrophe, which is really 
an ode to liberty, have an awesome sublimity : — 

"The condor in his flight 
Leaves clouds behind him, 
And ascends the skies, 
But has never left 
The impress of his gory talons 
On thy crests of snow ! " 
Again, 

" What were the Alps, the Caucasus, 
The Pyrenees, the Altas, and the Apennines, 
If they were neighbors to thy front, 
O Chimborazo! 

"Immense Cordilleras, 
Where the ice sheds not a raindrop, 
In the blaze of day, but whose pedestal 
Uplifts a peak colossal, that appears 
The pillar of the firmament. " 

The female poet who has the South American ear and 
favor is Dona Gertrudis Gomez de Avellaneda, who was born 
in Puerto Principe, Cuba, in 18 16. She caught the spirit of 
liberty, and one of the finest of her poems is a sonnet to 
Washington : — 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 299 



A WASHINGTON. 

No en lo passado a tu virtud modelo, 
Ni copia al porvenir dara la historia, 
Ni el laurel immortal de tu victoria 
Marchitaran los siglos en su vuelo. 

Si con rasgos de sangre guarda el suelo 
Del coloso del Sena la memoria, 
Cual astro puro brillara tu gloria 
Nunca empanada por oscuro velo. 

Mientras la fama las virtudes cuente 
Del heroe illustre que cadenas lima 
Y a la cerviz de los tiranos doma. 

Alza gozosa, America, tu frente, 
Que al Cincinato, que formo tu clima 
Le admira el mundo, y te lo envidia Roma. 



The past could give no model of thy virtue, 
Nor history any copy ; the centuries 
In their flight cannot wither 
Thy immortal laurel! 

If with gashes of gore the native land 
Of the statue of Sena guard his memory, 
Thy glory that has never known a shadow 
Will live a pure and brilliant star. 

While Fame recounts the deeds 

Of the illustrious hero who broke the chains, 

And tamed the neck of tyrants, 

America, rejoice, and lift thy front, 

For admires the world, and envies Rome 

The Cincinnatus, whom thy clime gave birth! 

We have given here but a thought of this grand poet, as a 
picture of the ideal of a true Latin-American poet, whom all 



300 OVER THE ANDES. 

American women should honor. " Come, O Thou, Diva," is 
a notable page of philosophical poetry, in her ode to Hope, 
as a conclusion of an introspection and an interpretation of 
life. 

A great poet and scholar of Chili is Senor Don de la Barra. 
Eduardo de la Barra was born in Santiago de Chili on Febru- 
ary 9, 1839. He belonged to a diplomatic family, and received 
a most liberal education. A diplomat, as well as a man of 
letters and of almost universal knowledge, he was a coadjutor 
of Balmaceda, and left Chili and took up his residence in 
Rosario, in the Argentine Republic, after the great Chilian 
President fell. He accepted an educational appointment in 
Argentina, which he held until changing politics made his 
return to Chili favorable. He is a gentleman of fine face, 
quick sympathies, liberal views, and Castilian manners. He 
has published several volumes of poems, and his life has 
been written by Leonardo Elit (1889). 

But the most popular of the Latin-American poets, and 
one of the true children of genius of the world, is Manuel 
Acuna, a descendant of a humble family, who was born in 
Saltillo, Mexico, in 1849. His history is romantic and touch- 
ing ; in some points it resembles Chatterton, for it ended in 
clouds and darkness : his sun went out at noon. His poetic 
endowments were exalted and multiple ; he was a voice of 
the democracy of Mexico, and so of the spirit of South 
American republics. His fiery zeal for the democratic princi- 
ple, for the cause of the people, was toned and refined by a 
nature full of pure and true affections. He loved his father 
with a fervor that has seldom found in verse so intense an 
expression. Amid his rising fame he was true to his simple 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 3OI 

home, and it is the home poet, like a Scott, a Goldsmith, a 
Longfellow, whose verses creep into the heart of the world. 
His patriotism, his love of his father, and a shadowy romance, 
that brings a touch of pity to his last young days, have made 
him at once the Keats and the Burns of Latin America. One 
who could write, — 

" Mi Madre, la que vive todavia, puesto que vivo yo," 

would never want for hearts or readers. The poets of sym- 
pathy outlast all others. 

He was an enthusiastic student of the sciences, and he 
founded a literary academy in Mexico, of which he became 
the guiding light. 

His genius was self-consuming : the sword was too sharp 
for the scabbard. His beloved father died ; he was unhappy 
in an affair of the heart; and with his own hands he closed the 
door of life, and so left a shadow on his works and memory. 

His poem on the death of his father called "Tears" is 
tears, if ever words were such : — 

" Over my cradle, 
Wherever the songs of night lulled me to sleep, 
The blue sky floated ; 

Two stars were there that beamed when they saw me. 
To-morrow when I lift my eyes toward the shadowy space 
Over that cradle will be a void. 

"Thou art vanished — of the book of darkness 
I have not the knowledge or the key. 
In the grave wherein thou slumberest 
I know not if there be room for love ; 
I know not if the sepulchre can love life, 
But in the dense obscurity I know 
There lives a spark that glows and trembles. 
I know that the sweetest of all names 



302 OVER THE ANDES. 

Is that I utter when I call on thee, 

And that in the religion of remembrances 

Thou art the God I love. 

" Father sleep — my trembling heart 
Sends thee its song, and leaves thee its farewell. 
My love illuminates thy lonely grave, 
And over thee in the eternal night 
That veils thy tomb my soul will be a star." 

His poem on the " Fifth of May " is a picture of his love 
for Mexico, for whose welfare and glory he was willing to 

die : — 

" My country, 
God gave thee a soldier in every man, 
And in every soldier a hero! 
Thou hast entered a new era, 
An era of progress and glory : 
To thee it comes to-day, 
Heaven's kiss of love 
Upon thy banner." 

There is something pathetic in the songs of the errant 
Gauchos, whose homes were their saddles, and whose cstan- 
cias were the plains. They recall the days of Gomez, and 
his free, wild horsemen, and the romances of a picturesque 
but tragic barbarism that is forever gone. The water-carrier 
listens at the veranda, as he hears the guitar attuned to these 
themes, as the North American lad would do to a tale of 
Marion's men. The patriots of the plains of the Silver-land 
who breathed liberty in the air is a theme that must ever 
haunt the growing Republics of the Sun. 

South America has glorious singers and songs, but the 
greater are to come. The countries of the South Temperate 
Zone are pulsing with literary activity and expectation, and 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 303 

Aconcagua is a new Parnassus, and is likely to be the last in 
the West. 

Poets came in brotherhoods at the dawn of the new era, as 
prophetic heralds, and as inspired and inspiring leaders ; and, 
again, in the decline of an epoch they appear as raconteurs. 
The poets of the dawn have already appeared in the ten 
republics of the Andes, and have sung the songs of liberty 
and love, of the wide pampas, the majestic rivers and groves, 
and the orchid-haunted plateaus. In the faded and gone 
Incarial days poets sprung into the life and inspirations of 
the golden temples of the Children of the Sun. The land of 
poetry was there, and is there. The end of the long march 
of the Aryan people toward the West must come in Argen- 
tina, Chili, and Peru. The Italian immigration to this new 
Italy is one of art. The mixed race of Argentines, Chilians, 
Peruvians, Italians, English, French, and Germans is making 
a new nation, and beautiful Buenos Ayres and Santiago show 
what that nation will be. The development of the United 
States has been the wonder of the nineteenth century. The 
surprise and glory of the twentieth century is likely to be the 
achievement of the Republics of the Sun and of the Southern 
Cross, of which the poets are already singing, and are more 
gloriously to sing in the supreme century before us. 

South America loves to sing of her heroes of the liberation. 
There is an Andean-like air in the chorus of her song to 
Bolivar (El Libertador) : — 

" Compatriots, the day is at hand, 
The day great Bolivar was born, 
The Alcides new, the tyrant's terror, 
America's love and glory." 



304 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Dulce Patria," the national song of Chili, the vow in 
which is sometimes sung by the army kneeling, has lines as 
inspiring : — 

" The strife and the warfare is ended, 

And we hear the glad rejoicings of the free! 
He who yesterday was our invader, 

Can no longer a brother be. 
On the field now our banners are gleaming, 
Three centuries of stain thus redeeming! 

And at last we are free and victorious — 
Here in gladness our triumph revealing. 

For the heritage of heroes is freedom, 
At whose feet sweet victory is kneeling! 

Chorus. 

" Land beloved ! Our vow now receive, 

Vows which Chili upon thine altar swore ; 
She shall be the grave of free men, 

Or th' asylum 'gainst tyrants evermore! " 

The national air of Brazil opens as nobly: — 

" May the glorious sun shed a flood of light 

O'er Brazil with its hallowed sod. 
Despots never again will our land affright — 

Never more will we groan 'neath the rod. 
Then with hymns of glory resounding, 

With new hopes for the land we adore, 
Loyal hearts for our country rebounding, 

Let our song ring from mountain to shore. 

Chorus. 

" Liberty ! Liberty ! 

Open wide your pinions grand ; 
Thro' tempests dire and battles' fire, 
Oh, guard our native land!" 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 305 

This was the hymn of the Proclamation of the Republic, 
and the words were by Medeiros e Albuquerque. 
These songs have one sentiment : 

" O my country ! 
Sooner than see thee bound again 
In slavery's chain, I'd give my life for thee." 

If Sarmiento did not write verse, his prose is poetry. 
His "Facundo," translated by Mrs. Horace Mann under 
the title of " Life in the Argentine," reads like an epic. 
The first President of Argentina, Ravadavia, was a literary 
man. 

Simon Bolivar and San Martin had the qualities of epic 
heroes, and their achievements will doubtless furnish inspira- 
tions for literary art that will be worthy of the Andean peaks 
and plains. South America not only promises to be the new 
poet's land, but one where the epic strain will follow the 
present prophetic period of reed and song. 

Leigh purchased a cyclopaedia of South American authors, 
with specimens of their work, which he began to study in 
Santiago. These poems were full of feeling and color, and 
he himself began to feel an inspiration in their glowing lan- 
guage, and to talk and write in a way that would have seemed 
effusive in the North. 

Our Boys found a curious custom in the Chilian cities, 
which may or may not be commended. The conductors on 
the street cars were not men, but bright, attractive young 
women. 

Before they left the city, Mr. Warrener read to Our Boys 
some lines that he had written. He said : " I have put my 
x 



306 OVER THE ANDES. 

heart into these verses ; I wrote them after reading Godoy. 
I am not a Godoy, — I wish that I had his inspiration, — but 
because I have not is no reason why I should not express in 
my own way my thoughts and feelings." 

NIGHT IN THE ANDES. 

Sublime ! magnificent ! 

The westering sun his fluent glory pours 

O'er all the peaks that sentinel the sky, 

And in the mellowing splendors Hesper burns 

Above the walls of jasper, pearl, and gold ! 

Silence ! We tread the pathway to the sky 

Upon the crystal ladders of the air. 

Here Tupungato lifts his snowy brow. 

As when the thundering glaciers made their march 

And stopped forever at the voice of God ! 

There Aconcagua hails the gates of heaven ; 

Cordilleras grand of silent solitudes, 

Whose temples' stairs no human foot has trod, 

Nor wing of condor scaled, nor sun of noon 

Caused one warm tear to fall ! 

" Altura ! " 
The arriero's voice on cliffs above 
Breaks on the air, and downward falls from heaven. 
Heights rise on heights in sunset's frozen fires, 
And loom their amber mantles in the sun, 
And fade in night's cerulean eclipse, 
As though God turned his back upon the world! 
And now we stand in suburbs of the skies, 
Above the bending axle of the earth ; 
The dusty arriero spreads his tent, 
Points to the sky : " Para altura ! " cries, 
And sinks upon the moss ! 

The stars come forth, 
Taurus aflame and Aldebaran beautiful, 



THE SOUTH AMERICAN POETS. 307 

Orion robed in mysteries of light, 
And Sirius, queen of the far hosts of worlds. 
Here sickled Leo shines in Saturn's face, 
And there the Centaur points the jewelled way 
Towards the rising Cross. Soft comes the moon, 
A mystic splendor wheeling through the clouds 
That veil the pampas and the floral seas. 
The peaks to silver turn ; and this is night. 
Majestic ! grand ! sublime ! 

Around us gleam 
The crowns of earth upon the thrones of heaven. 
Hail, Aconcagua, hail ! What were the Alps, 
What were the Apennines, the Pyrenees, 
The clouded gold of Afric's desert peaks, 
The white Sierra's walls, compared to thee ! 
Couldst thou but speak, what mysteries thou couldst tell 
Of chaos thundering in the age of lire 
When first creation wrought the will of God, 
And myriad forms of conscious life came forth 
Conjubilant with song ! 

But, lo, the night is passed! 
A mighty glory fills and thrills the sky. 
The rising circles of the sun appear 
A purple splendor, irises of flame, 
And comes the sun, not o'er the hills or plains, 
But up the void of planetary space, 
And greets the earth as a companion world. 
The peaks are fire, and, grandest scene of earth, 
'Tis morn upon the Ancles ! 

Alonzo, with an eye to business opportunities, did not 
enter into these poetic imaginations and studies, but Arline 
was in full sympathy with Mr. Warrener and Leigh. She 
procured the poems of Avellaneda. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE WEST COAST IQUIQUE AND LIMA TARAPACA — THE 

HIGH RAILROAD TO TITICACA CUZCO. 

FROM the beautiful port of Valparaiso, whence the snowy 
brow of Aconcagua may be seen from the hills on clear 
days, Our Boys sailed away for Iquique, over a placid sea. 
The steamer stopped at ports on the way, among them at 
Coquimbo and Caldera ; but so placid were the Pacific waters 
that one in a stateroom could hardly tell whether one were 
on the open sea or in port. The ocean was purple ; the 
coast was white and rainless and palmless ; the sunsets were 
a glory ; the nights, silences of star-hung shadows. 

Iquique, on the borders of Peru, where once passengers 
were landed on men's shoulders, is a very busy place. The 
moles were covered with merchandise, and the harbor was 
full of rugged-looking ships. 

The desert of Tarapaca, of which it is a port, is, as we have 
said, a vast chemical laboratory, having a great wealth of fer- 
tilizing material. Iquique is one of its ports nearest to the 
sea. The desert is some four hundred geographical miles in 
length, and the oficinas of the nitrate enterprises extend over 
an area of some sixty miles. 

The nitrate railroad was incorporated in London in 1882, 
on a concession by the Peruvian government in i860. 

308 



THE WEST COAST. 309 

Our Boys went over the nitrate railroad. Arline sagely 
observed that people at Iquique and the colonial places 
along the route did look as though they " needed education." 

Uncle Henry agreed. He said that he had been informed 
that the native women here put on new dresses once every 
year on feast days (festas), and as they did not put off the 
old ones, they assumed very dignified proportions. It would 
seem, if this were true, that some Boston dress reform might 
be of service, as well as Swiss education. 

Alonzo secured many curious specimens of fossil remains 
on the way. These would not be likely to run away, like the 
handsome coral snake. 

The night on the nitrate desert was very sublime; the stars 
shed a vivid splendor. The blasting of the dead ocean bed 
by the powerful explosives presented at times a very start- 
ling scene. 

From Iquique Our Boys went to Mollendo, and thence to 
Arequipa and Lake Titicaca. 

LAKE TITICACA AND CUZCO, THE CITY OF THE SUN. 

Titicaca is the highest lake in the world, and its shores 
and near regions present some of the noblest scenery and 
most interesting of ancient American ruins to the traveller. 
This is the way to Cuzco, the Incarial City of the Sun, and it 
was here that the first messengers of the sun were supposed 
to have descended from heaven. 

The way to Titicaca by Mollendo and Arequipa is by rail. 

Mollendo is a port and a railroad town, — a town of con- 
fusion. The houses of the inhabitants are mere coverings, 



3IO OVER THE ANDES. 

and the people for the most part seem lazy and dirty, and 
offer but few suggestions of the days of Peru in her glory. 
A calm sea, a barren coast, a blazing air, and a mart full of 
the unloading and loading of merchandise is about all there 
is of it ; one sees all in a few hours, and is glad to be on the 
upward way to beautiful Arequipa. 

The road runs along rocky headlands, and at points over- 
looks the sea. The green surf tosses beneath, and the hills 
rise above. 

From Ensenada the road rises for twenty miles at a dis- 
tance of more than 3000 feet, but with the ocean and white 
surf often in view. The hills were bare ; but fruitful valleys 
must have been near, for the stopping-places were sur- 
rounded with brown Indian women with very black hair, 
who had bananas, figs, guavas, and grapes to sell. 

Erelong the majestic cone of Mt. Misti appeared, higher 
than Mont Blanc, or 18,650 feet high. It was robed in pure 
snow, white and glistening. Near it rose Charchani, 19,000 
feet high. Snow peaks after snow peaks came into view, 
rising like giants in dazzling whiteness. 

Here was a land of wonder. The almost vertical sun 
made pictures on the pampas, — mirages of fantastic shapes ; 
the wind here had been an artist in sand, leaving the plain 
a picturesque confusion. 

At length after passing through deep gorges and crossing 
a bridge 100 feet long, the train arrives at Arequipa, 7550 
feet above the sea. 

Arequipa is indeed beautiful in situation. The mountains 
that are around her seem to be a part of her. 

Mt. Misti rises 11,000 feet above her like a cathedral 



THE WEST COAST. 3 1 1 

dome. The mountain river flows through her. At the 
first sight she seems to be a fortunate city, but she is not 
un frequently shaken by earthquakes, to drive away which 
the Plegaria {miserere met) is rung, though usually not 
soon enough to prevent the houses and walls from falling. 
The churches have very thick walls and arches. The 
cathedral has been shaken, but is an immense structure. 
It was once rich in treasures. Its silver candlesticks were 
so massive as to bring thirty-six thousand dollars in gold, 
when sold to meet some necessity of the government. It 
is a city of churches ; of native Peruvians, who speak the 
Ouichua tongue ; of droves of llamas, who lift high their 
camel-like heads, and stare upon you as though they saw 
a ghost. 

One rises from Arequipa amid snowy peaks to Punq. 
Here one takes the steamer and crosses Lake Titicaca and 
sails among the sacred islands, as it were on a lake in the 
sky. The steamer is small, the water often choppy, and 
one finds one's self in much the same physical condition 
as on the English Channel or the Caribbean Sea. 

The Sacred Island of Titicaca, whence spring the Incas 
in their supposed descent from the sun, is beautiful with 
its terraces green and gold with barley. 

But another vision here appears that is rarely equalled, 
if ever, in the sublime aspects of the earth. Of this scene 
Dr. Dee, who visited the lake a few years ago, says: — 

" Passing through the narrow strait between the island of 
Titicaca and the peninsula of Copacobana, we had before us 
on the Bolivian mainland the far-famed mountains of Sorata 
and Lampa. Of all the mountains I have ever seen these 



3 12 OVER THE ANDES. 

have filled out most my imagination of height and snow 
masses. They are utterly indescribable." 

Dr. Dee lived in Mexico for a long time, and has been a 
very extensive traveller in regions of grand mountain scenery. 

Lake Titicaca is 12,846 feet above the sea-level. It is 
1 1 5 miles long, and from 30 to 60 miles broad. The plain 
of Titicaca is larger than Ireland. 

Crossing the lake one journeys to La Paz, a city of some 
fifty thousand souls. There is a partly built railway between 
Peru and Cuzco, but the journey in part will be made on mule. 

The mountain chains from Titicaca, which wall the great 
plain, trend towards the historic city and form what is called 
the Knot of Cuzco. These table-lands are rich with potatoes 
and barley ; our potatoes originally travelled to us from 
Peru. Here are the lands of the verbena, fuchsia, and the 
heliotrope, the latter of which is very fragrant and appro- 
priately named. On the pasture land graze the vicuna and 
alpaca. About the Knot grow luxurious tropical forests, the 
home of birds and flowers and many of the mysteries of the 
animal and vegetable world. 

The city of Cuzco is situated amid all this beauty of moun- 
tain, forest, and stream at 1 1,300 feet above the level of the sea. 

Many of the peaks here exceed Mont Blanc in height. 
They are from 17,000 to 22,000 feet high. The climate in 
the valleys is healthful and beautiful. What wonder that in 
this region should have arisen the Golden City of the Sun 
and roads and works of cyclopean construction ? 

The civilization and religious philosophy of the ancient 
Peruvians were far in advance of all other primitive nations 
before the advent of Christianity. These people believed in 



THE WEST COAST. 3 I 3 

a Creator, — the spirit who filled the whole universe with his 
presence, and whose manifestations to the children of the 
world was the sun. They held to the equality of all men, and 
not only to that but to the equality of the obligation to work 
among all men. All toiled : none were rich ; none were poor ; 
none were uncared for. Helpless infancy and age were alike 
provided for. They believed that the soul lived forever. If 
the soul was noble and pure, it had rest after this life ; if evil, 
it must labor on until it should find rest in obedience to the 
laws of the Creator given to the soul. 

They believed that the sun had sent to them teachers to 
instruct them how to live, and as to what awaited them. These 
teachers were the Incas, the royal children of light, whom the 
spirit of all good had permitted to live among them. 

The Incas, according to the ancient tradition, appeared on 
the shores of Lake Titicaca about the year iooo. Manco and 
his wife, Mama Oello, suddenly came among the people, and 
announced that they were the Children of the Sun, sent from 
heaven to instruct mankind. 

Manco bore with him a golden wedge, and declared, accord- 
ing to tradition, that when in his travels this wedge should 
sink into the earth there he must found a city. The golden 
wedge sunk into the earth at the place where now is the 
ancient city of Cuzco. 

Hence Cuzco became the Sacred City, and there arose the 
Temple of the Sun. 

THE INCA INDIANS. 

Missionary efforts from time to time call attention to the 
condition of the once robbed, and always wronged, Inca Ind- 



314 OVER THE ANDES. 

ians. The sympathetic pen of Prescott has pictured the his- 
tory of these pastoral people, who made their offerings of 
corn to the sun on the high plateaus, and whose golden tem- 
ples once blazed in the morning light and reflected the first 
rays of the day amid joyous acclamations and poetic ritual. 
They once numbered thirty million, and inhabited one of the 
most lofty plateaus of the world. They were a peace-loving 
race, — children of nature, — and worshipped the sun as the 
source of their prosperity, and as the gift of the Supreme 
Being for their adoration. They believed the legend that we 
have related, that the first Inca, Manco Capac, descended 
from the sun, and appeared as the divine messenger on the 
banks of Lake Titicaca. This messenger not only taught 
them the pastoral arts, and founded Cuzco, and the Temple 
of the Sun with its ceiling of pure gold, but also the amiable 
virtues, and the duty of serving mankind by public improve- 
ments. The stone structures and the immense public roads 
of the early empire of the Children of the Sun yet remain, 
and excite the admiration of those who visit them. The 
empire grew, and attained a semi-civilization of unwonted 
splendor and ideality. 

It was found by the Spaniards under Pizarro in 1527, was 
robbed to enrich Spain, and fell. There are in history few 
pages of greater cruelty and wrong than those inflicted in the 
name of Christianity on these innocent people. They were 
slaughtered in battle, tortured for their gold, deceived, en- 
slaved, and scattered. They declined in numbers and in pro- 
ductive occupations under their conquerors, who offered them 
the delights of another world for slavery in this, and who 
have made them a? poor as they were once rich. Their con- 



THE WEST COAST. 315 

dition represents one of the great, unrighted wrongs of 
time. 

There are no correct statistics of their present number. 
There are in many places in Peru, and the villages under the 
equator, a mixed race. They are called the Quichua, or Que- 
chua, Indians (Kaychwah), and are supposed to represent a 
population of about three million. 

The allied Indian tribes of the Amazons and the Orinoco 
number some two million. A very large part of those Ind- 
ians in the equatorial regions of the Andes and on the great 
rivers have not been taught the higher arts of civilized life. 
There are on foot several movements to carry to them edu- 
cation, as both the inspiration of Christianity, and as a sense 
of that justice which civilization owes to a wronged people. 

THE GREAT INCA ROAD. 

Next to the Roman road, among the marvellous achieve- 
ments of human skill, must be ranked the road of the Incas 
over the high plateau of the Andes, under the splendors of 
the meridional sky of the equator. This road is shadowed 
by the loftiest mountains. The forests by the wayside, with 
their orchids and birds, are like gardens of the air. The road 
once passed cities where temples were arched with gold. It 
took hundreds of men to bear away the golden roofs of the 
temple of Cuzco. The roof of the Temple of the Sun had 
some seven hundred golden plates, like the lids of chests, 
and it required four men to move some of them. In the sun 
these plates were like a sun of gold. 

The greatest of these Incarial roads, along terraced moun- 
tains and over gleaming viaducts, was that of Cuzco to Quito, 



316 OVER THE ANDES. 

of which we shall speak. It passed over blooming table- 
lands, over sierras buried in snow, through galleries cut in 
the living rock, over suspension bridges, which spanned 
awful chasms. It was nearly two thousand miles long, and 
it made the two great cities of the sun lands neighbors ; 
while European cities at the same period that were near 
together were almost strangers to each other. 

Along these high roads were caravansaries for the shelter 
and comfort of the traveller. These were stationed some 
five miles apart, and in them rested the runners who for- 
warded the despatches of the empire. Some of the grandest 
railroads in the world are those that climb the Andes, at 
heights of from ten to fourteen thousand feet. As stupen- 
dous as are these works of modern science, they hardly 
excite the wonder of the traveller more than do the re- 
mains of the old Inca roads. Enormous blocks of stone 
were fitted into each other so perfectly as to leave scarcely 
a seam. These remain. 

In the Peru of the Incas, the nation of some thirty mill- 
ion people, was one family ; all worked for the state ; the 
state provided for all. These roads were built for the wel- 
fare of the whole people by these state laborers. 

Our Boys went to La Paz ; on a part of the way by the 
lake of the cloud world. They made the journey to Cuzco 
partly by rail and partly by mule. They found the city in 
a state of partial decay. We shall speak of Cuzco in her 
glory in another chapter. She will soon be united to Are- 
quipa by rail. The railway from that city to the connecting 
points on the lake is already partly completed. " The earth 
helped the woman," says the Scripture. So science helps 



THE WEST COAST. 317 

civilization. What South America needs is Swiss education. 
Arline was seeing this as she went on her strange way over 
mountains and through clouds, dreaming in her young mind 
the dreams of her family friend, Elizabeth Peabody. 

"What this country should have," she ventured to say to 
Uncle Henry, " is a kindergarten school for every twenty 
children." 

Uncle Henry lifted his hands, after the manner that these 
exclamation points had started up on the summer veranda on 
Milton Hills. 

"Arline," he said, "it strikes me that your ideas are 
rather Oriental — they would have saved the head of Queen 
Scheherazade." 

From Mollendo Our Boys went to Callao, the port of Lima, 
where lived the mysterious Dona Blanco, an old friend of 
the family in her younger days, who went abroad to study 
music, and in some way married a Don and went to Lima 
and lived near the " city of the kings " in a place of public 
resort, bearing the delightful name of Miraflores. She was 
a young woman of great vigor of mind and character, and 
one who had heard the educational lectures of Miss Peabody 
in the revival days of Boston education. 

On the steamer again, Arline read, one bright afternoon, a 
poem to Uncle Henry. It had been written in her note-book 
by the imaginative American whom they had left at Santiago. 
She read it very carefully, as though it contained some idea 
that she would impress upon the captain. What did it 
mean ? 



318 OVER THE ANDES. 

THE BARRIER REEF. 

(AUSTRALIA.) 

A thousand miles the waves beat back and thunder, 
A thousand miles the firm reef spouts its spray ; 

Who reared, my soul, these ocean walls of wonder, 
That here the mighty hosts of breakers stay? 

Without, all currents of the angry billows ; 

Within, the placid splendors of the calm, 
Where spreads the chambered sea her warded pillows, 

Safe from the gales as isles of pine and balm. 

O coral builder, who this reef made glorious 

That stands among the parables of time, 
As thou hast lifted, 'gainst the seas, victorious, 

These fortress walls, stupendous and sublime, 

So man may add by simple self-denials 

Virtue to virtue, till his perils cease ; 
Without, the billows baffled in their trials ; 

Within, the havens and the ports of peace. 

O coral builder, least of all earth's creatures, 

Thy will has climbed where failed the aims of man! 

The simplest yet the grandest of life's teachers, 
Finite in work, but infinite in plan! 

In thee, achievement finds her noblest story, 

He wins whose purpose upward climbs like thee ; 

Man maps the earth, and builds his towers of glory — 
But thou alone hast ordered back the sea! 

Dona Blanco lived out of Lima. Uncle Henry decided 
to take the great railroad trip of the world before paying 



THE WEST COAST. 319 

her a visit. Arline wished to go at once to the Dona's villa, 
but Uncle Henry said, " No, we will rest there afterward." 

THE HIGHEST RAILROAD IN THE WORLD. 

In their curious hotel at Lima, whose dining-room was all 
bowers and bloom, and whose tables made one never forget 
the hour of the meal, Leigh said to Uncle Henry: — 

" You said, Uncle, that we were to go up on the Oroya rail- 
road, and that it is the highest railroad in the world. Where 
is Oroya ? " 

" Oroya is not any grand city of modern times nor ruin of 
the Inca age, but a railroad station on the Cumbre." 

" But does the railroad stop there ? " 

" For the present, or near there. Oroya stands for the 
summit of the Cordillera. Oroya is a hamlet at the summit of 
the pass of the Peruvian Andes, about one hundred and thirty- 
seven miles from Callao, at a height of more than twelve 
thousand feet. It is one of the highest railway stations in 
the world." 

" If Oroya is not a great city nor a great mining camp, 
why was this road built ? " 

" To connect the Pacific coast with the navigable part of 
the Amazon River. It is one of the most gigantic schemes 
ever conceived by the human brain. It almost makes Napo- 
leon's saying true, that there is no such word as impossible." 

" But why has the railroad stopped at Oroya ? Why has 
it not gone on and down to the banks of the Amazon ? " 

" It stopped at Oroya for the want of further means to carry 
on the construction. The building of the road to the summit 
nearly ruined the Peruvian government." 



320 OVER THE ANDES. 

" Will it ever be finished ? " 

" Nothing can be more certain. The conditions of the 
growth of the people and of commerce will compel its comple- 
tion. The impossible work on it is already done. It has 
silenced the common assertion that it could not be built. It 
is practically accomplished. It will not be a difficult thing 
to complete the road to the Amazon, but it may for a time 
not be as easy to command the capital to do it." 

" I have heard that those who go up to Oroya are in danger 
of mountain sickness ; that they may bleed from the nose, eyes 
and ears ; and that there have been cases in which the burst- 
ing of the capillaries in the brain has caused instant death." 

"There is little danger to one's health, if one approaches 
the Cumbre by slow stages. I have arranged for us to stop 
off three times, once at Matacoma, at San Mateo, and again 
at Chilca. I do not apprehend that we will suffer. We will 
take time to adjust ourselves to the altitude." 

"What will we see ? " 

"The terrace farms of Indian races now gone — farms 
above the clouds, gardens of the sky. We shall see the re- 
mains of the dwellings of those of another age, who actually 
lived in the sky. We shall see such exhibitions of enginery 
as were never before attempted by man. We shall go through 
countless tunnels, over stupendous chasms, and face the 
White Andes, that can only be seen from the far plains or 
from the sea." 

" When shall we begin the journey ? " 

" To-morrow." 

The next day they set out for this journey to the sky; at 
first up the long, narrow valley of the rapid Rimac. They 



THE WEST COAST. 321 

arrived by pleasant stages at a great bridge of a fearful 
name, the Aqua de Verregus, or " the water of warts.'' To 
drink the water is to induce goitres. Many of the builders 
of the bridge suffered from this infliction, and there is a 
cemetery near called Beautiful View, that bears witness to 
the peril of this poisoned stream. 

The mountain walls now begin to show the remains of 
terraces, which were once gardens. They seem like human 
swallows' nests, and they become more and more numerous. 
What a strange and picturesque population once dwelt amid 
these hanging gardens ! shelf farms, in the moist air. 

They stopped at San Mateo, a town of some two thousand 
inhabitants, on a mountain stream. Here they rested amid 
the great upheavals of nature, in the solitary mountain 
world. 

They were glad when they could resume the journey. In 
all of these places one is in a hurry to get away ; one is 
overpowered with a desire for change, and thinks of the 
world as something afar. 

They passed a place so terrible in its suggestions as to be 
called A Little Hell {Infernilld). 

At Chilca they stood on an altitude of twelve thousand six 
hundred and ninety-seven feet. The snow peaks soon began 
to loom up above the green mountain walls. 

At last Mt. Sunday appeared in showy grandeur. Here 
is the source of the River Rimac, which goes tumbling 
down the gorges, and gathering force to become the delight 
of Lima and her gardens of bloom. 

The railway crosses the Cordillera in view of Mt. Meiggs, 
a summit higher than Mont Blanc. Here is the highest 



322 OVER THE ANDES. 

tunnel in the world. It is some six hundred feet below 
the Cumbre. 

The feeling in these stupendous solitudes of the sky is one 
of awe. Human pride vanishes here. The heart longs for 
its old home, wherever it may be. 

One can but pity the fate of the Italian laborers who 
helped the Indians to construct these immense curves, bridges, 
and tunnels, whose lives must have been short, and whose 
wages small. They were men of necessity, who toiled with- 
out comfort, and with little hope, and who left not so much 
as a name in the world. 

Here were the regions of the llama or the mountain camel, 
which seems created for the cliff, as the Arabian camel is for 
the desert. 

Below, on one side, was the serene Pacific; on the other, the 
mighty waterways to the Amazon. 

Some day, when the over-population of Europe, or the 
finding of mines, shall bring a new race here, this highway 
will be travelled as in the days of the vanished Indian races. 
" From the Pacific to the Amazon " will be a proud name in 
human achievement. It is largely North American enter- 
prise that has planned and built these stupendous highways 
of Argentina, Chili, and Peru. Will not this spirit march on 
until it shall embrace education and the arts, and lead to the 
valleys and table-lands of the Andes populations who shall 
develop the untold and incalculable resources of this empty 
part of the world ? 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC" — AUNT BLANCO, THE 
GOLDEN — SHE IS A KINDERGARTNER — ARLINE REMAINS 
IN LIMA. 

THEY found Mary White, whom they had come to call 
"Aunt Blanco, the Golden," in a lovely villa on the 
Rimac, a few miles out of Lima. 

She was expecting Our Boys and Arline, and had been 
hoping for their coming on the arrival of each steamer from 
the south at Callao. 

She received Arline with tears, embraces, and kisses, as 
though she were a sister. She welcomed Our Boys with 
wonderful grace and dignity, and turned them over to her 
husband, the hospitable "Dr. Don." 

The villa was very beautiful. The patio was a slender 
marble colonnade, hung with vines, orchids, and cages of 
lovely birds. In the middle of it was a fountain, with Italian 
statues. The salas of the house, or casas, were adorned with 
paintings, and the whole villa seemed to be a little palace of 
beauty and art. 

Arline was taken into the Dona's private rooms, and was 
there served with fruit, cake, and coffee. 

"Now," continued the Dona, "you will wish to know 

323 



324 OVER THE ANDES. 

how I came to change my name. I went abroad to study 
music, and one summer I visited Switzerland, where I be- 
came interested in kindergarten education. I met Dr. Don 
Blanco at Geneva. He was connected with the Peruvian 
government. He, too, was interested in education, and had 
come to Geneva to study the influence of the Swiss system of 
education on the national character. He is a Liberal in poli- 
tics. He offered me his name. He was a great-hearted man, 
— one who was seeking for a more liberal government in 
Peru. I believed in him and in his purposes. I loved him, 
and I married him. 

" You will like him ; and now you have come, I hope, to 
help us in our educational work in the true spirit of Elizabeth 
Peabody, our old friend. I have a large kindergarten in 
my own house at Miraflores, where we will go, and have 
plans for such schools among the families at Tarapaca and 
among the Ouichua Indians. Let me now introduce my 
husband to you." 

The Don appeared ; he looked like a king. 

"La casa esta a la disposition de listed" he said; "la casa 
delisted." (My house is yours.) 

It seemed delightful to be given such a beautiful house. 
The Don had just before given it to Our Boys. 

Dr. Don Blanco was a man of genius, and highly esteemed 
as a physician on the coast. As soon as he discovered 
Leigh's fondness for botany, he began to take the boy to 
his heart. 

One day, he said to him : — 

" My boy, you are looking about for an occupation in life. 
You should become a physician, and a specialist." 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC." 325 

" How a specialist ? " asked Leigh. " I am glad that you 
take such a friendly interest in me. I would be glad if I 
could become superior in something, and your word specialist 
makes me eager to know what you have in your mind." 

" My boy, amigo mio, your saying that you wish that you 
could become superior in something strikes the right chord. 

"Peru is the land of the new discoveries of medical plants 
that have proved most useful to the world. Here is the 
place of cinchona (Peruvian bark), sarsaparilla, ipecacuanha, 
and copaiba, names familiar to your ears. But the forests of 
Peru abound in plants that offer new remedies. You should 
study there, and make yourself useful to the profession in 
that way." 

"Dr. Don Blanco, I cannot tell you what I now see — 
you have opened the door to my whole life. Let me call 
Uncle Henry." 

The captain responded to the call. 

" Uncle Henry, my duty in life has been made clear to 
me," said he, with his usual enthusiasm. " I have chosen 
my occupation in life." 

" So has Alonzo. He is now studying to become a mer- 
chant. His choice makes my heart glad. Travel enlarges 
one's views in this way. Now, Leigh, what calling have 
you chosen ?" 

" I am going to study to be a physician, and I would like 
to begin my study here with the Doctor. He is a botanist, 
and I wish to study the plants that offer new remedies to 
the profession. I can make my life useful in this way." 

" Leigh, my boy, I am glad to hear you say that. I am 
happy that you see in that way your duty in life. But you 



326 OVER THE ANDES. 

should not begin your studies here at first. Go back, be 
graduated from an American medical college, then return 
here and study medical botany with the Doctor." 

Arline entered the room. 

"Well, Arline," said Uncle Henry, " Alonzo and Leigh 
think that they have chosen their occupations in life." 

" So have I, Uncle." 

The exclamation points in the shape of two arms went up. 

" I am going to try to be a kindergarten teacher, and to 
find a field where I am most needed. Elizabeth Peabody 
told me I ought to do that years ago." 

Dona Blanco now came upon the scene. She held in her 
hand little Loro, who asked as usual, "What is the matter?" 

" I am going," she said, " to hang Loro up among the birds 
in the kindergarten schoolroom, when we go to Miraflores, 
and there she will always remain.." 

" Arline here tells me that she intends to become a kinder- 
garten teacher. Why a kindergarten teacher ? " asked Uncle 
Henry. 

" Captain Henry Frobisher, Arline is right," said Dona 
Blanco. " She has caught the true spirit of Elizabeth Pea- 
body. The need of South America is education, and pri- 
mary-school education, and the kind of primary-school 
education that stands for character, and that develops the 
individuality of the pupil for the best that he can do in 
life. We need great teachers for our schools, — I mean 
those who are great in heart, not intellectual acrobats. 

" Captain Henry, I am proud of Arline and of her pur- 
pose in life. I want you to leave her with me. I want to 
make a place for her as a teacher among the families of a 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 327 

colony town on the desert of Tarapaca. If she loves the 
work there, I want her to begin the same kind of education 
among the Quichua Indians. 

" Captain Henry, listen to me. I am dead in earnest in 
this matter. You ask me what is this kindergarten that is 
not in other education. The Sermon on the Mount is in 
it. The work fixes the Sermon on the Mount in the con- 
duct of the child. It is spiritual education first, memory 
and reason afterward. 

" ' I have given away much money in charity,' said, in 
substance, Elizabeth Thompson, the philanthropist, — whom 
Congress honored with the freedom of its halls, — 'in a man- 
ner which has done more harm than good. Could I live my 
life over again, I would establish in the country kindergartens 
for friendless children of the city.' 

"'We create life through ideals,' taught Pestalozzi. 'We 
learn by doing,' said Froebel ; and both agreed that life must 
be taught from life or by example, and that the individual 
gift of the pupil was ' sacred to the teacher,' and that each 
pupil must be developed after his own gift, as though there 
were no other pupils like him, or gift like his in the world. 
The old-time New England school-dame, whipping the dates 
of the reigns of Roman emperors into five-year-old brains, 
formed no part of the grand Pestalozzian vision. ' Educa- 
tion stands for character,' said Pestalozzi." 

Arline listened to these views with the spirit in which 
Leigh had given his ears to the poetic Mr. Warrener. Dona 
Blanco continued, — 

" Our schools have followed too largely the monarchical 
idea, and too little the plan of self-government which repre- 



328 OVER THE ANDES. 

sents the spirit of the Republic. We look out upon the 
moral condition of the people with alarm, and there comes 
to the prophetic souls the strong conviction that we must 
have a new order ' of universal education — an education 
that tends to character on the principle that ' power lies in 
the ultimates ' — to make a new generation to meet the 
higher demands of the age. What shall be our model ? " 

Arline nodded to Uncle Henry to listen. 

"It has ofttimes been said that Switzerland — the place 
where freedom and schools were born — is the model repub- 
lic of the world, and that she owes her admirable system of 
laws to her methods of education. Switzerland has entered 
into treaties of perpetual peace with the European nations ; 
she has the referendum by which the laws enacted by her 
congress are referred back to the people for endorsement ; 
and her children are all educated by the state for the pro- 
tection of the state. Of some 485,000 heads of families, 
465,000 own landed or other property. Capital punishment 
has been abolished, and in no one of the public institutions 
may any one strike another a blow. These well-known facts 
produce an ideal impression. The like influence of her sys- 
tem of education, which is essentially the same, has been 
claimed for Prussia. When the latter nation went down 
before France, the Emperor Frederick declared, ' We must 
have a new education to make a new generation of men.' 
His empress, Louisa, had read Pestalozzi's delightful novel, 
' Lienhard und Gertrud,' and asked to be allowed to send 
a class of' Prussian students to the Swiss school-master's 
Institute of Yverdon. So a new education for Germany 
was begun. After Sedan, General Von Moltke is reported 
to have said, ' It was Pestalozzi who did it.' ' : 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC." 329 

The Dona had become so enthusiastic in what she was 
saying that Loro said, " What is the matter ? " 

" In this view, and to learn features for new development 
in Froebel schools for friendless children in charitable work, 
and for the larger and more general work of elementary- 
culture, I went to Zurich in 1895, and spent the summer 
amid the scenes and associations of Pestalozzi and among 
the castles associated with the forming of the first public 
schools and a system of moral education. 

" I began my Pestalozzian pilgrimage at Zurich, but be- 
fore speaking of the birthplace of the world's great school- 
master, let me give a simple outline of Pestalozzi's life, as it 
appears on his famous monument in the old square at 
Yverdon : — 

Henry Pestalozzi, 

Born at Zurich, the 12th of January, 1746, 

Died at Brugg, the 17th of February, 1827, 

Saviour of the poor at Newhof, 

Father of orphans at Stanz, 

Founder of public schools at Burgdorf, 

Teacher of humanity at Yverdon. 
For himself, nothing; for others, all. 

" Two of the places named in this beautiful memorial 
relate to the development of that new education which filled 
Switzerland and Prussia, and which we believe is to be made 
the foundation of a better system of national culture in our 
own Republic, and by all American republics. 

" I went to Burgdorf. Here Pestalozzi established the 
first public school in the world in the interest of common- 
school education. His system of instruction was a wonder. 



330 OVER THE ANDES. 

It was founded largely on these principles, that ' the individu- 
ality of the pupil is sacred to the teacher,' and that ' life 
must be taught from life,' or by example, or sense impres- 
sions. The wonder grew. The report of the official visitors 
to this first free school is an expression of amazement. We 
give an extract from it, in which is clearly shown the philoso- 
pher's methods : ' So far as we are able to judge, all that you 
yourself hoped from your method of teaching has been real- 
ized. You have shown what powers already exist in even 
the youngest child ; in what way these powers are to be 
developed, and how each talent must be sought out and exer- 
cised in such a way as to bring it to maturity. The aston- 
ishing progress made by all your younger pupils, in spite of 
their differences in character and dispositions, clearly shows 
that every child is good for something, when the master knows 
how to find out his talents and cultivate them in a truly psy- 
chological manner. Your teaching has brought to light the 
foundations on which all instructions must be based, if it 
is ever to be of any real use. It also shows that from the 
tenderest age, and in a very short time, a child's mind can 
attain a wonderful breadth of development, which must make 
its influence felt, not only during his few years of study, but 
throughout his whole life.' 

" I went to Yverdon. Here in the old castle, in view of 
the placid Neuchatel, and under the low, dark walls of the 
Jura, Pestalozzi founded his institute to train teachers for 
the work of public-school education after his new philosophy 
and method. His schools continue there now, and in the 
same rooms where he used to teach. The fame of Yverdon 
filled Europe. The institute was visited by the learned and 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC." 331 

titled from many lands. Here came Froebel, and caught 
the leading ideas of the Pestalozzian philosophy and changed 
them into the system called kindergarten. His earliest les- 
son in a school that he attended in childhood was : ' Seek ye 
first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these 
things shall be added unto you.' 

" The word first haunted him for many years, and he 
resolved to found a system of education upon it, in which 
soul culture should be the moulding influence. He saw that 
the child creates life by his ideals, and that it was the true 
principle of education to lead the child to put into habit the 
highest ideals ; to make a moral education of the playground 
in the natural way, and to mould the soul to the highest 
expression of life, human and divine. 

" Froebel saw that the social life of a child is, as a rule, 
decisive of its destiny ; that in the first years of life the 
incorruptible seed must be sown, and that his methods of 
education should follow the spiritual symbols of nature. 
' Life,' he says, ' is one continuous whole, and all the stages 
of development are but links in the great chain of existence ; 
and since nothing is stronger than its weaker part, it is essen- 
tial that the first link — babyhood — be made firm enough to 
bear the strain of future life.' The child must learn by 
creative things to delight in his objective self. 

" ' For thyself in all thy works take care. 
That every act the highest meaning bear ; 
Wouldst thou unite the child for aye with thee, 
Then let him with the Highest One thy union see. 
Believe that by the good that's in thy mind 
Thy child to good will early be inclined. 
By every noble thought with which thy heart is fired, 



33^ OVER THE ANDES. 

The child's young soul will surely be inspired ; 

And canst thou any better gift bestow, 

Than union with the Eternal One to know ? ' — Froebel. 

" The traveller in Switzerland can take but one view of the 
influence of this system of soul-culture in childhood upon the 
national character. That strength of the system lies in that 
it tends to eliminate hereditary evil tendencies, and starts the 
moral growth rightly while the nature is susceptible. 

" As King William said of Prussia, we may now say of 
South America, ' We must have a new system of education 
to make a new generation of men.' Froebel once found a 
garden without a lily, and it did not meet the ideal of his 
soul. Our system does not educate. It is the garden with- 
out the lily." 

Here the Dona rose up, and Loro was about to speak 
again, but Arline raised her finger. 

" A kindergarten age is at hand, and the political attain- 
ment of Switzerland pictures what its influence will be. It 
will be an evolution of education, whose salutary effect is 
likely to be felt in the three Americas. It has already begun. 

" The rise of moral education in this country owes much 
to the influence of Miss Elizabeth Palmer Peabody, my old 
friend and Arline's ideal, who threw herself like a prophetess 
into the Froebel work of character-building in childhood. 
This woman's work was hardly appreciated while she lived, 
for the power and extent of its influence could not then be 
seen. It was just and fitting that the latest evolution of the 
kindergarten method — the Kindergarten Settlement in Bos- 
ton — should be given her name. 

" The preparation for the new education of the kinder- 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC." 333 

garten age has been going on silently, but with prophetic 
force, in many of our American cities, and notably in Chi- 
cago, Boston, San Francisco, and Cincinnati. It found 
strong expression at the World's Columbian Exposition. It 
is a woman's movement in this country, and it has for its end 
the building of national character." 

Arline's face glowed, and Loro, seeing it, now ventured to 
inquire again, " What is the matter ? " 

" Any one who has means and the time can go on a mis- 
sion of humanity in this way. It offers an open door where 
the need is the greatest, and the influence the longest and the 
most evolutionary. Every street in America where there are 
friendless children needs a kindergarten to offer such little 
ones sympathy, protection, a home, and to bring security to 
society. 

" The old nations which are surprising the world by new 
progress, as Japan, Mexico, and several of the South Ameri- 
can republics, are accepting the fact that ' the primary school 
is the foundation of national character.' This is notably so 
in Japan, where a few years ago the first kindergarten was 
opened in Tokio, under the patronage of the court, amid 
songs of the poets, music, and flowers, and it now numbers 
in its branches nearly ten thousand pupils. 

" Instruction and memory culture is only a fraction of the 
whole system of education. The heart must share the like 
development of the brain, and the conscience be ennobled 
to govern both, and the wings of the imagination have an 
atmosphere. The Republic must have men, if it would live. 
Every friend of human progress may well welcome the 
kindergarten age as an iris of hope in the signs of the 



334 OVER THE ANDES. 

times ; in it will appear, as in Switzerland and Prussia, a 
new generation of men to meet the higher demands of the 
race. As Froebel says, ' Renunciation — the abandonment 
of the external or of the internal — is the condition for attain- 
ing the highest development.' 

" Let me tell you the story of what one woman did in San 
Francisco, and show you her development. 

"In the graduating exercises of the Pacific Kindergarten 
Training School in 1880, Mrs. Sarah B. Cooper began an 
address which has been widely quoted, with these words : 
' When the old king demanded of the Spartans fifty of their 
children as hostages, they replied, " We would prefer to give 
you a hundred of our most distinguished men." ' This was 
but a fair testimony to the value of a child to any community 
and in any age. 

" Mrs. Cooper, strange as it may seem to-day, had fallen 
under the criticism of 'heresy,' the cause of her offend- 
ing being her inspiration to lay the foundation of a better 
national character by founding free kindergartens for neg- 
lected children. In this address she proceeds to show that 
such schools are Christ schools, and that they follow the first 
principles of the Galilean teaching. She said in strong, 
positive words: 'The hope of San Francisco lies in the 
little children that throng her streets to-day. . . . With fifty 
or sixty kindergartens established in the most neglected 
districts, San Francisco would be a different city in ten 
years.' In the same address, and in answer to the question 
as to what is to be done with the neglected classes of 
children in large cities, she said, ' Multiply free kindergar- 
tens everywhere.' 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC." 335 

" This was fifteen or more years ago. She saw the star 
that was to lead the pioneer teachers into the larger and 
more spiritual evolution of this work in life. The city of 
San Francisco, notwithstanding the charge of ' heresy ' 
against Mrs. Cooper, accepted the Jackson Street Kindergar- 
ten for neglected children as an experiment in character 
education. The result became an example to the Pacific 
states and to the country. Mrs. Cooper came to see such 
schools endowed with sixty thousand dollars from Mrs. 
Leland Stanford, and to be recognized as the influence that 
met the needs of American cities. 

" The kindergarten movement in San Francisco is asso- 
ciated with the honored names of Miss Emma Marwedel and 
Mr. Felix Adler ; but among the leaders of those who have 
sought to make the kindergarten a part of benevolent church 
work, Mrs. Cooper merits a high place of honor — she may 
be said to belong to the martyr period of the movement. 

" When Froebel appeared as a pupil in the old German 
town, his earliest lesson was, ' Seek ye first the kingdom 
of God and his righteousness.' That word first haunted 
him, and it became his star of life, and he resolved to found 
a new system of education upon it, one that should begin 
with the exercise of the spiritual faculties. 

" Mrs. Cooper clearly saw this side of the Froebelian 
purpose and vision, and she gave her influence to making 
this education the work of Christian benevolence. It be- 
came a clear light, a multiplying power. It flowed from her 
heart naturally : she can have had no thought of personal 
gain or reputation. 

" Her life is full of incidents that are inspiring. It shows 



336 OVER THE ANDES. 

the hand behind the event ; how the doors of Providence 
open to those with a benevolent purpose ; how the true cur- 
rent of life finds the larger way. It is the running stream 
that fertilizes, and the stream runs to the river, and the river 
to the sea. 

"She was born at Cazenovia, N.Y., December 12, 1836. 
At the age of fourteen she became a teacher in a country 
school. ' My first teaching was the best that I ever did,' 
she says. Her experience in the country school is a picture 
of her whole life, for she organized a Sunday-school in the 
schoolhouse, in the true spirit of Froebel, and drew to it the 
people of the town. 

" She became a pupil of Mrs. Willard's female seminary, 
in Troy, N.Y., and then went South to teach in the family 
of a distinguished and wealthy gentleman. The spirit of the 
fourteen-year-old teacher in a country town in New York 
sought a like opportunity in Georgia, and she gathered a 
school of plantation slaves for religious instruction. All this 
was a preparation for a larger work, which she could not 
have then foreseen. 

" She was married to Mr. H. F. Cooper, in Augusta, Ga., 
a gentleman who held in his life important offices under the 
state and federal government. 

" President Lincoln having appointed Mr. Cooper assessor of 
internal revenue at Memphis, Tenn., Mrs. Cooper enlarged her 
work by organizing Bible classes among the soldiers. In the 
same perilous period she formed a society for the protection 
of refugees. In 1869, she became a resident of San Francisco, 
and engaged in benevolent work in the Howard Presbyterian 
Church, and later in the Calvary Presbyterian Church. Here 



LIMA, "THE PEARL OF THE PACIFIC." 337 

her real life work, for which she had been long preparing, 
came to her. She was led to give her great personal influ- 
ence to free kindergartens for neglected children. 

" In this effort she was criticised by members of her own 
church. The criticism led to an awakening of public interest 
in her missionary enterprises, with the result that benevolent 
citizens of San Francisco contributed, in 1891, the sum of 
more than thirty thousand dollars towards her benevolent kin- 
dergartens. Some ten thousand children have been trained 
in these schools, the success of which led to the forming of 
the Golden Gate Kindergarten Association. Mrs. Cooper was 
made the president of this association, and her reputation 
and work became national. 

" She has written much and lectured before important 
associations in the interest of her work. She has taken an 
interest in the education of Jewish children, and her influ- 
ence for good in San Francisco has been many-sided and 
powerful. She has helped her times. 

" Her answer to the problem of the age is, ' Multiply 
kindergartens for neglected children.' 

"What one woman did for the Pacific states, Arline and I 
can begin to do in this country. We can make, I say, a 
beginning. We can drop the first seed into the soil." 

" I see, I see what you would like to do," said Uncle Henry. 
" Well, ideals in some minds become temples. But Arline 
is too young to begin this work now. She can come back 
again, if she wishes, when she is older." 

" Captain Henry Frobisher, I hold a letter in my hands. 
It is from my old friend, Arline's mother. In it she says 
that Arline may remain with me, and engage in study and 
z 



3$S OVER THE ANDES. 

teaching here, if she shall wish to do so. What do you say, 
Arline ? " 

" I wish to stay. I love Uncle Henry, and my favorite 
cousins are Alonzo and Leigh ; but my duty is here. ' He 
who prefers his friends to duty will soon prefer himself to 
his friends,' some one says. 

" I saw my place here in my mind before I left home. I 
told my conviction to my mother. She kissed me and told 
me that she believed that I would become consecrated to this 
work ; that it was a work begun by Elizabeth Peabody. She 
was glad that I wished to give my life to seeking the good 
of others." 

" But you are only a drop in the sea, Arline." 

" But the drop is of the sea, Uncle Henry. I came here to 
stay. Here I must stay. I cannot do otherwise." 

"Captain Frobisher," said Doila Blanco, "no one can suc- 
ceed in this country without enthusiasm. Enthusiasm does 
succeed here, as you have seen." 

"Well, my Arline. I am loath to give you up; but 
Another has called you. I can see it. May Heaven bless 
you, and when you need help in your work, remember that 
you will find a friend in the heart and pockets of your old 
Uncle Henry." 

So Arline found a home on the Rimac, under the rainless 
skies of Peru. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS — THE INCAS IN THEIR GLORY 
TO PANAMA. 

THE Esmeraldas ! The word had a charm of old, both to 
the Incas and to the Spaniards. The charm vanished, 
for there were no longer Incas to wear the green jewels in 
their golden robes and among their sacred feathers, and the 
Spaniards have been taking long siestas in their mountain- 
walled cities. 

What a land is this, of Ecuador ! Over it looms the dome 
of the equator, Chimborazo, and blazes the eternal chimney 
of Cotopaxi. It is under the equator, and beneath this fiery 
arch the axle of the earth seems to bend. In the blaz- 
ing noons here the sun casts no shadow. The sunsets are 
splendors before which the memory of the sunsets of Italy 
lose their charm. The stars of night seem to hang in liquid 
air. 

It is still a land of gold, and these mines in the mountain 
walls will yet carry into the highlands of the Andes a new 
civilization and the influences of Christian education. Al- 
ready plans are being made by American and English capi- 
talists to break open again the treasure-houses of nature in 
the equatorial hills, whence Incas and viceroys once obtained 
their wealth. Should gold, rather than a desire for the spirit- 

339 



34-0 OVER THE ANDES. 

ual good of mankind, lead this higher progress of civiliza- 
tion ? We can only answer by saying that in the uplifting of 
mankind all things work together for good. 

" Friends," said Pizarro, the conqueror, robber, and mur- 
derer, as he traced a line with his sword on the sand, "on 
that side of the line are toil, hunger, and nakedness, the 
drenching storm, desertion, and death ; on this side, is ease ; 
on this side is pleasure. On that side of the line lies Peru 
and its riches. Choose, each man as becomes a Castilian. 
As for me, I cross the line and face the south ! " He 
stepped over the line on the sand : his comrades followed him. 

What this man did for gold, some great soul should be 
found to do for the. uplifting of the untaught races in these 
regions of gold and emeralds under the mountains of the 
sun. Here might arise one of the most glorious nations in 
the history of mankind. Nature has prepared a triumphal 
way for those who would go there, not to enrich themselves, 
but the soul ; who would go there poor, and return poor, but 
leave the Kingdom of Heaven behind. 

The Guayaquil River is like a garden in the sea. It is 
lined with canoes, groves of mangoes, and venerable trees. 
Birds of bright plumage fill the air. Far in the distance 
loom the Andes in the blazing sky. 

The steamer from Panama, or from Valparaiso, seems 
scarcely to be moving as she approaches the port city of 
Guayaquil, so undisturbed are the waters. 

The city of Guayaquil, once known as Calanta, but called 
by its present name, after Guyas, a chief of Atahualpa, the 
Inca of tragic history, is the port of Ecuador. It has some 
twenty or more thousand fixed residents, some fine houses, 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 34 1 

and is very picturesque at sunset, or when lighted at night 
and thus seen from the still river. The river was known to 
the Spaniards nearly a hundred years before the landing of 
the Pilgrim Fathers in New England. 

The province of Quito was anciently one of the richest in 
all South America, and is still full of undeveloped resources, 
which promise one day to make it a wonderland of the world. 
It is one of the regions of the future. In the eighteenth 
century it began to fall into decay, and at the present time 
there are few more inactive countries than the Republic of 
Ecuador. 

The plateaus of the Andes here are from five to eleven 
thousand feet above the sea. They have temperate and 
agreeable climates ; clear, brilliant atmospheres ; the moun- 
tains lift their heads in eternal winters, while the orange, 
the olive, the vine, the maize, spread their gardens about 
their feet. 

The slopes of the Cordilleras are green with forests. Here 
grows the mahogany-tree. Here are spice-trees, dyewoods, 
the wild cocoa, coffee plant or tree, the cinchona, the wax 
palm, the vanilla vine, and orchids of wonderful forms and 
colors. Gold, silver, and copper are richly stored in the hills. 
Quicksilver oozes from the ores. The Esmeralda River is 
still walled with rocks containing the green gem once so 
highly esteemed. There is a mountain range southeast of 
Quito called the Langante, or Beautiful Mountain, which was 
known as the Mother of Gold, because gold was found in the 
waters that flowed down her sides. 

How do travellers go to Quito — the hidden city of wonder 
— from the port of Guayaquil ? The distance is some ninety 



342 OVER THE ANDES. 

leagues, or two hundred and seventy geographical miles. It 
looks like a commonplace effort, a journey of less than three 
hundred miles, which we make in America by rail in nine 
hours or less. But in this journey, in the lights and shadows 
of Chimborazo, one of the highest mountains on earth, and 
which must be made by mule or diligence, there will arise 
difficulties of which the ordinary traveller little dreams. In 
the fair season one may go from Guayaquil to Quito safely 
and comfortably in from three to five days ; in the rainy 
seasons, no schedule time can be made. 

The way from Quito to Guayaquil in the dry season is first 
for some sixty miles by the river to Bodegas, thence by 
mule or diligence over the lower mountains to the regions of 
Chimborazo, amid atmospheres of all the splendors of light 
and shade, to Huaranda. 

Church, the painter, has made this part of Ecuador famous 
as the Heart of the Andes. He exhibited a beautiful oil 
painting under this name in London, in 1856. It was a 
revelation to England, and afterwards it excited by its ex- 
hibition in our large cities the wonder of scenery-loving 
people in our country. It is said to have been a composite 
picture, but the principal view was taken from Huaranda, at 
sunset, under the shadows of Chimborazo. 

Mr. Frederick E. Church was born in Hartford, Conn., 
1826. He was a pupil of Thomas Cole, and developed a 
passion for painting that which was the most sublime and 
beautiful in nature. He began with a view of East Rock, 
near New Haven. His Niagara Falls made him famous. 
He longed to see Nature revealed in her most lofty expres- 
sions. In this quest he went to Ecuador. His Cotopaxi 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 343 

added to his reputation, and his Heart of the Andes made 
for him an international reputation and a world-wide fame. 
Under the shadow of Chimborazo, and in view of blazing 
Cotopaxi, he saw the giant forces of nature, and gave them 
to canvas for the admiration of the world. 

At Huaranda, the mules of the travellers are changed for 
those of hard feet and long training. After four hours or 
more hard climbing, the highest point of the road is reached, 
and we are traversing the companion hills of the mighty 
Chimborazo. We come next to Moca, and fifteen miles 
farther to the town of Hambato. The city of Latacunga 
next appears, more than 10,000 feet above the sea-level, out 
of the valley of which rises Gotopaxi. In a little less than 
one hundred miles we reach Quito, amid surroundings of 
natural scenery unsurpassed on earth. 

The city crowns the plateau. Its climate is eternal spring. 
The fruits of nearly all zones grow here. At the south rises 
the hill of Panecillo, where the Peruvian conquerors wor- 
shipped the sun. The towers of churches rise over the 
streets and walls. 

Quito has some 80,000 inhabitants. 

Ascend the hills around the city, and eight icy peaks of 
the Andes are to be seen. Go down into the valleys, and 
you are in a paradise of flowers, fruit, and singing birds. 
The sky of Italy is over you, and Chimborazo, 27,000 feet 
high, reflects the sun and mirrors the moon, where "seldom 
human foot has trod, or wing of condor scaled," or a single 
stream of water found an earthward way, for the hard moun- 
tain never weeps, but self-contained holds its eternal propor- 
tions and grows. 



344 OVER THE ANDES. 

About 9000 feet above the table-land of Quito rises flaming 
Cotopaxi, 18,887 feet high. Its upper part is a perfect cone 
of more than 4000 feet of snow. The flames of Cotopaxi 
have been known to rise 3000 feet. The scoria covers the 
valleys, where the thunders of the volcano have shaken the 
earth and air for more than five hundred miles. 

Humboldt, the great naturalist, reached the snow line of 
Cotopaxi and pronounced the mountain inaccessible. 

The Esmeralda River, or River of the Emeralds, which 
gives the poetic name to this region, rises near Quito, and 
flows to the sea through the province and past the town of 
Esmeraldas. The rock along the river was once famous for 
the green gems, and the whole country still may be claimed 
to be the true soil of the emerald. It was by way of the 
River of the Emeralds that the Caras invaders found Quito 
from the coast, and so conquered the Quito race. 

There is a hill on the south side of Quito called Panecillo. 
The view from its top is one of the most beautiful and grand 
in the world. The hill was called the Incas Yavira, or the' 
Virgin. The Quitos first had a temple there, and afterwards 
the conquering Caras. 

The Caras came to Quito 1000 a.d. On the hill was 
erected a temple to the sun and a temple to the moon. Few 
structures in the world have been more poetic. The Temple 
of the Sun was built of stone, having a pyramidal roof. It 
was square. On the eastern wall was a sun of gold, so 
fashioned as to emit resplendent rays on the processions of 
robed priests and multitudes of worshippers. The door of 
the temple stood wide open to the east, so as to face the sun 
in his earliest rising. The sun came up over the colossal 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 345 

mountains, — the peaks of ice and fire. His first rays fell upon 
the huge disk of gold in the open temple, and the gold sun 
became dazzling in the day god rising over the mountains. 
As the golden sun sent forth its fiery splendors, the priests 
adored the Maker of all things, and the people rejoiced in 
awe. 

But more poetic was the Temple of the Moon. It was 
round, and also faced the east, with a wide, open portal. In 
it on the eastern wall was a moon, or lima image of silver. 
When the moon rose over the Cordillera, her first beams must 
have shone upon the moon of silver, or the image representing 
the moon. 

How beautiful was night in Quito in those days of spectac- 
ular splendor, romance, and charm ! Afar, volcanoes blazed. 
The stars like lamps hung about stupendous Chimborazo. 
The land was flowers and the air was balm. Upon Pane- 
cillo Hill, commanding glorious prospects in sun and shadow, 
passed long processions of people; caciques loaded with gems; 
priests in white ; women on whose necks shone the green 
lustres of emerald in chains of gold. 

The rim of the moon appeared above the mountain wall, 
and the moon god in the temple began to gleam. The silver 
moon, we may fancy, responded to the moon in the horizon, 
and a silver gleam filled the round temple, as the full-orbed 
moon parted from the mountain crest. Joy filled the hearts 
of all as the earth temple seemed to answer the heavens. 
Music pulsed in the delicious air, and song and ecstasy arose. 
God seemed to come visibly near. It was ignorant and bar- 
barous, but it is all that the Indian mind could know. It 
approached truth. Beautiful in catching the moonbeams 



346 OVER THE ANDES. 

by night, as the golden sun caught the sunbeams of early 
morning, were the two temples and their bejewelled worship- 
pers, and beautiful was night in Quito from five hundred to 
a thousand years ago. 

What Ecuador most needs is education, — Pestalozzian, 
Froebelian, and Swiss education, or that which stands for 
the development of the spiritual nature of the child and a 
true knowledge of its relations to life and the world, — an 
education that stands for character and makes men. 

Ecuador, with a system of free and universal education, 
would rise high among the republics of the world. Nature 
has given her everything. She only needs to create a new 
race of enlightened men. The reopening of her mines to 
American enterprise will carry there a higher sense of 
responsibilities of civilization, and the school will follow, and 
that will be a happy day for the lands of the equator when 
the school bells shall ring under Chimborazo. 

The way from Guayaquil to Quito was formerly by river 
and mule train. But now one may go by steamer and dili- 
gence idiligencid). The latter course was taken by our 
travellers, who passed over the foot of Chimborazo, or over 
those elevations above which the monarch mountain rises 
like a dome. 

THE INCAS IN THEIR GLORY. 

The visions of the equality, fraternity, and union of man- 
kind, such as prophets foresaw and Virgil in the Pollio 
(Eclogue IV.) picture, was in part fulfilled in the years of 
the Incas in their glory. 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 347 

In that golden period of semi-barbarism, as we have said, 
none were rich, none were poor, and the care of helpless 
infancy and old age was bestowed alike upon all. 

Vanish ye, last years of the nineteenth century ! let us 
turn again to the past through the eye that looks backward. 

It is a high day in Cuzco, the beginning of the Feast of 
the Huaraca, when the new Inca is to be proclaimed, which is 
to last for thirty days. The royal neophyte, who is now to 
take his seat beside his father on the golden throne of the 
sun, is Huayna Capac, the last of the legitimate Incas, and 
the last but two of the royal race. 

It is early morning. The city is laden with flowers, and 
the breath of flowers fills the air. The way to the great 
Temple of the Sun is strewn with Inca lilies ; drums are 
beaten ; trumpets are blown, and bells of silver and gold 
awaken the sleepers. 

As a rising arch of pearly light fills the east, and under it 
appears a red glow, like a semi-crown of rubies, the mighty 
fortress that guards the city comes distinctly into view. 

What a structure this was on the white steps of the 
sierras ! The wall facing the city was a precipice, twelve 
hundred feet long, lifting into the air three stupendous 
towers. No cement had been used in erecting this moun- 
tainous defence, yet the stones were so fitted together that a 
blade of a knife could scarcely have been inserted between 
them. Some of these stones were nearly forty feet long 
and of great thickness. They had been brought by rude 
machines from distant quarries. The building of the for- 
tress had occupied twenty thousand men for fifty years. 

The rubies of the eastern sky brighten under the arch of 



348 OVER THE ANDES. 

spreading splendor, that is gray, pearly, and liquid in hue, 
like the sea. 

A single sun ray shoots above the sierra. A great pro- 
cession moves from the fortress and palaces clothed in 
white. At the head comes the Inca, crowned with cora- 
quenque feathers, gleaming with gold and emeralds, and 
bearing the banner of the rainbow. 

The sun shoots its rays over the sierra, and the great pro- 
cession bursts into sacred song. 

The seven hundred massive plates of gold on the roof of 
the Temple of the Sun begin to burn and glow. The golden 
sun there is kindling from the first light of the sun in the 
heavens. 

There is another peal of trumpets and another song. The 
streets are strewn with flowers, crushed lilies pour forth their 
fragrance on every hand, the orchids in festoons hang over 
the brightening way. 

The sun's rim touches the horizon, and a living glory passes 
over the top of the sun of gold. 

And now the city of the sierras bursts into song. The 
whole procession and even the llamas kneel, for the god of 
day is rising. Joyous he comes, and the sun in the temple of 
gold radiates to meet him. Acclamations pour forth ; the 
sun has risen ; it is day. 

The heir apparent, who has passed through the military 
training after the nobles, comes forth. He has been ex- 
amined by the lords ; he has wrestled and boxed, and has 
been tested as to his strength and agility. He is sixteen 
years of age. He has slept on the ground, travelled over 
hard places with bare feet, and worn simple attire. 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 349 

He is brought by the nobles into the council of the high 
lords of the empire, and placed face to face with his father, 
the king. 

" Child of the Sun," exclaims the Inca, " I have seen the 
flower blooming upon the stalk, but it passed away. The sun 
of yesterday is gone, and the suns of the yesterdays that 
have led up to to-day the march of time. I have stood in the 
sunrise of life ; it is now high noon, and soon the sun will go 
down for me forever, and I shall sleep in the hollow tombs of 
my fathers, the Children of the Sun, who descended upon the 
gardens of the high lake of Titicaca, and who received the 
golden wedge that sunk into the earth and now lies buried 
under our sacred feet. 

" Child of the Sun, look upward. Above you in the sky of 
noon marches your father, the messenger of the God that 
lives in all things. He holds over you his shield. You can- 
not look upon him : his glory dazzles the eye. Child of the 
Sun, look down. Before you in the shadows of the earth 
lies an empire of millions of souls. It stretches from the 
white deserts to Quito in the land of the emeralds. Its high- 
way leads through the skies, and to it at night the stars draw 
near. 

" Shine, Child of the Sun. A new career of glory awaits 
you, and your deeds shall add lustre to the records of the 
race when my sun has gone down, and I shall sleep with 
those who await the resurrection. 

"Child of the Sun, the heart of the Inca has but one 
prayer for his offspring, — it is that he may be more glorious 
than his father. Excel in deeds of justice, and you shall 
ascend at last with the immortals." 



350 OVER THE ANDES. 

The white priest of the temple lifted his face to the sun. 
There was silence. Even the birds seemed to cease to sing. 

" O thou that treadest the pathway of the sky, in thy march 
eternal encircle thy child with thy light. Thou earnest from 
the eternal mysteries; thou art the child of the spirit with 
whom there is no space or time. There is no space but there 
is space beyond ; there is no time in which there was not 
time before, and time that never began shall never cease to be. 

" Make the deeds of the sons on earth resplendent, clothe 
this thy champion with thy power, guide him by thy wisdom, 
and receive him at last into the eternal abodes of light and 
glory." 

The prayer ended ; the poets sang their odes. 

The young Inca knelt down before his father. The latter 
pierced his ears with a golden bodkin, in which were to be 
hung orcjoucs, or heavy pendants of gold. 

The noblemen then put a sash of jewels about the young 
prince's loins, and sandals of the sacred order upon his feet. 

Then came the jewels from the fields and gardens — the 
flowers that were the emblems of the virtues, and the ever- 
greens that typified the immortality of these virtues. With 
these flowers the prince was crowned. 

A tassel of golden color was then fastened about his head. 
The old Inca arose on his throne. 

" Huayna Capac, Child of the Sun, receive the banner of 
the rainbow, and go forth with it to bless mankind." 

The trumpets sounded. The nobles formed in a long, glit- 
tering procession, and did homage to the new prince, Huayna 
Capac, the last of the glorious race of the Children of the Sun. 

The ceremonies of the presentation over, we may now see 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 35 1 

the nobles going to Yucay, the gardens of delights, the banner 
of the iris leading them on. These gardens were some twelve 
miles distant from the Temple of the Sun. Such gardens 
were never seen elsewhere in all the world. The artificial 
flowers were made of gold and silver. The maize harvests 
were of golden corn, with silver husks and silk tassels. The 
basins of the baths were of gold. Amid the artificial flowers 
of gold, silver, emeralds, and other precious stones, real 
flowers bloomed. Here were the sacred animals and birds. 

They go singing after the banner of the iris, lovely girls 
strewing the way before them with flowers. 

The dances in the gardens of delights follow. One may 
judge of their splendor when we repeat the oft told story, 
that on the birth of Huascar, Huayna Capac gave a festival 
to which the nobles danced in honor of the golden chain, 
seven hundred feet long, with links nearly as large as a 
man's wrist. 

Such were the golden gardens of Yucay in the delicious 
valley of the sierras ! 

One day there would be added to the heir apparent's 
insignia the llanta, with two feathers of the most sacred 
bird of all the empire, the coraquenque. 

It is night now. The vestments change to silver, and amid 
ornaments of silver the festival goes on, and Cuzco rejoices in 
the light of the moon. 

The people are happy. No one lacks bread or shelter ; 
no one struggles for wealth or power. All are content. 
Justice reigns over the Peruvian empire. 

The old Inca is dead now and laid away in the temple 
in the dusty gold of the tombs of his fathers. 



352 



OVER THE ANDES. 



Huanya Capac is an Inca, and he marches over the great 
Inca road to Quito the glorious, a distance of some fifteen 
hundred miles. . 

There, in that conquered province, where has been set up 
the golden Temple of the Sun and the silver Temple of the 
Moon to meet both luminaries at their coming, he sets his 
throne. 

He has a son Huascar, the true heir to the throne, but he 
has another son on whom he has set his heart, Atahualpa, 
whose fate all the world knows. He desires that this son of 
his heart shall share the throne with his brother. The world 
has long read the story of how Atahualpa caused his brother 
to be slain, and how he himself was executed at the order of 
Pizarro in the square of Caxamalca. 

The affection of Huanya Capac for Atahualpa led him 
to violate the law of the Incas in regard to the right to the 
throne. Huascar was the true heir. The two brothers soon 
became jealous of each other, and Atahualpa held Huascar, 
who was a mild and tender-hearted prince, in his power. 

The Spanish robbers came, led by Pizarro. The Inca 
empire fell, but the two brothers were Incas by name. 

" I will examine their claims and will decide which is the 
true Inca," said the usurping conqueror. 

Atahualpa saw what this decision would be. He knew 
that his brother was the rightful heir, and that his amiable 
spirit would commend itself to the invaders. He determined to 
make that judgment impossible by putting his brother to death. 
He ordered that he should be drowned. 
Torn by the injustice of the act, Huascar appealed to 
Heaven, and pronounced in prophecy his brother's doom. 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 353 

"As you do by me," he is said to have prophesied, "so 
will the Spaniard one day do by you. The white man will 
avenge me; you will not long survive." He was drowned, 
according to ancient tradition, in the river Andamarca. 

His fate was repeated in that of Atahualpa. He, too, 
became a captive. He longed for life, for freedom again. 

" Release me," he said to Pizarro, " and I will cover the 
floor with gold." The victor smiled. 

" Release me, and I will fill the room with vessels of gold 
as high as I can reach ! " 

" How high can you reach, Atahualpa ? " 

He could reach nine feet high around the wall of his 
prison room. 

" I accept your terms," said Pizarro. He drew a red line 
on the wall. 

Forth went the servants of Atahualpa to gather gold. 
Cuzco was robbed of its treasures. The remarkable promise 
seemed likely to be fulfilled. 

But the long delay in gathering the gold had led to a 
suspicion that Atahualpa's subjects were plotting for his 
liberation. Pizarro secured all the treasures that the couriers 
brought, and then condemned him to death, for the like 
cause that he himself had condemned his brother. 

The priests went to him and exhorted him to change his 
religion. He refused. 

He was taken into the square of Caxamalca to be burned. 
The faggots were gathered around him. 

"Abjure your religion and accept the faith," said the 
priest, " and you shall not be burned — you shall be stran- 
gled." 

2A 



354 OVER THE ANDES. 

The fallen Inca bowed to the priest. He was strangled, 
and his body was buried with Christian rites. While the 
latter was going on, his family and devoted friends rushed 
into the church that they might sacrifice themselves at his 
side, and so enter with him the shining mansions of the sun. 

They were driven back. Some of them committed suicide. 

Notwithstanding his treatment of his brother, Atahualpa 
had many noble and generous qualities, and had been friendly 
to the hand that had struck him down. 

But this was not the end. Pizarro's conduct towards Ata 
hualpa was to be repeated in himself by his own jealoiu 
followers. 

One day after dinner a tumult was heard in the outei 
court-yard of his palace. A messenger came flying into tht 
inner court-yard crying, — 

" Help, help ! the men of Chili are coming to murder the 
marquis ! " 

They secured the door to the apartment of Pizarro. 

It was shortly assaulted by a band of desperate men with 
the cry, — 

" Death to the tyrant ! " 

Pizarro's brother attempted to force back the assailants 
and was striken wounded on the floor. 

Pizarro now threw himself upon the invaders. "What, 
ho ! " he cried ; " have you come to kill me in my own house, 
you traitors? " 

He ran one of the assailants through with a sword. 

Just as he did this he received his own death wound, and 
fell reeling upon the floor. 

"Jesu!" he exclaimed. 



THE LAND OF THE EMERALDS. 355 

He touched his finger in his own blood to write J-e-s-u-s, 
and he tried to kiss the word. It was the last act of his life. 

His body was left alone for a time, and then was secretly 
buried in darkness in a corner of the cathedral of Lima, and 
is now in a glass coffin surmounted by an inscription. 

Such were the days of the Incas in their glory. Such was 
the sunset of the long reigns of the Children of the Sun, of 
whom there are few records in the history of semi-civilized 
nations that are more picturesque and wonderful ; for the 
eternal laws of justice run through the events of all people, 
whether they be pagan or Christian or those who seek in 
darkness the light of the truth. The Inca history is a 
chapter that will yet more closely claim the thought of the 
world. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

GUAYAQUIL THE STORY OF " THE CONQUEROR WHO GAM- 
BLED AWAY THE GOLDEN SUN " — UNCLE HENRY'S TALE 
OF HIS FIRST VISIT TO GUAYAQUIL. 

THE port of Ecuador is an easy place. The people 
work to-morrow, and if they do work to-day they 
expect large and extra pay. The sun clothes the children 
with his vertical rays, and adults require but little more 
clothing. The people may have tropical fruits in the morn- 
ing, at noon, and at night almost for the asking, and what 
do they need more? 

Easy as the place is, the traveller will be likely to find 
many difficulties there. He will be charged full value for 
everything. He will need to be very careful of his health, 
his diet, and his personal comfort in many ways. 

At the consul's Our Boys heard a very strange tale, in 
substance a true one. It was of Mancio Sierra Lejesema, 

— the last of the conquistadores, or conquerors, — who seems 
to have been a great gambler in his early life and prime. 

In the division of the gold of the conquest, Lejesema 
received as his portion the most magnificent of all trophies, 

— the golden sun of the temple of Cuzco. 

The value of this trophy cannot be computed now. 
Would he take it back to Spain, that it might become an 
eternal memorial ? 

356 



GUAYAQUIL. 357 

A man who is a slave to any passion will be likely to 
bestow anything that he may receive upon that passion. 
Now gambling, as we have said, was the governing passion 
of Lejesema. 

But why should he gamble any more, now that he pos- 
sessed the treasure of treasures of Peru ? He had no need 
to add to his wealth. 

But the Scriptures say that a man " shall be held by the 
cords of his own sins." As the poet says, — 

" There is a guilt 
That can be punished only by excess 
Of guilt." 

Only a revival of the spiritual life in the soul — a new 
nature, a conscious stroke — can, as a rule, break the power 
of passion. 

To gamble was the Don's nature. It held him now. 

" Senors," he said, " I am going to play the greatest game 
ever played on earth. I am going to invite you to go to the 
gardens, and there you shall sit down with me and play for 
the golden sun of Peru." 

They went. It was a merry night. The game was an 
intense one. The Don lost ! 

He walked the gardens in despair ; he saw he was a 
slave, and he received a conscious stroke like Paul's on 
the Damascus road. He cried out in his soul for help. His 
feelings became changed ; he came to hate gambling as 
greatly as he had loved it. 

As Paul the persecutor came to write the great personifi- 
cation to Charity, so this man lived to pen the greatest of all 
tributes of justice to the Children of the Sun. It may be 



358 OVER THE ANDES. 

found in Spanish in the Appendix to Prescott's " Conquest 
of Peru." 

He married an Inca's daughter, repented of his sins, lived 
for the welfare of the Peruvians, and was the last of the 
conquist 'adores. It was he who gave rise to the Spanish 
proverb, Juega el sol antes que amanezcca, " He plays away the 
sun before sunrise," that is, he is an habitual spendthrift. 

Uncle Henry, as he was sometimes wont to do at such 
places, told a very curious tale of travel at the consulate. 



UNCLE HENRY S STRANGE VISITOR. 

I shall never forget the first night I passed in the suburbs 
of Guayaquil, where I had gone in a merchant vessel from 
Panama. I was then dealing in dyewoods and barks, and 
had in view the purchase of a cargo of superior quality of 
medicinal barks. I had heard that they could be secured 
here from Indians who traded beyond the mountains. In 
this I had been somewhat misled ; but my visit to Guayaquil 
was not without profit, though at first attended by great dis- 
comfort, which began in a terrible fright, and was followed 
by a raging fever. 

I had found quarters with a planter who lived a little 
out of the city. The weather was extremely hot, but the 
planter's home was well shaded, watered, and artificially 
cooled, and I passed my first evening very pleasantly, enjoy- 
ing accounts of the country related by the planter and his fam- 
ily, and the hospitality of delicious cocoa and equatorial fruits. 

The night was warm and moist, but I was extremely tired, 
and I slept well. 



GUAYAQUIL. 359 

The next day I began to be feverish, with a languor and 
pain in my chest. I went to my couch and remained there. 
Night came on with a steam-like heat and a vapory moon. 
My window was open. It was protected by wide bars of 
iron, and around these were trailing vines full of blooms and 
odors. 

I could not sleep. After midnight, I saw a strange dark 
object on the outside of the window frame. It dropped to the 
floor, and seemed to be as large as a cat, dog, or baby. It 
climbed up on my large travelling trunk, which was covered 
with leather, and in which were my valuables, and sat there. 

I had no light. The single candle which had been brought 
to my room I had allowed to burn down ; I had no matches in 
my room, whose door I had carefully locked. Now my 
trunk stood midway between my cot and the locked door. 

The room was constructed of wood and was unplastered. 
The moon was bright, and shed a feeble light into my room 
through the blooming vines. 

I stared at the object on my trunk. To my mind it was 
the most fearful object that I ever beheld, like a gargoyle. 
I could not believe it real ; I persuaded myself that it must be 
a waking dream of the fever. I knew that fever in these 
countries often began with terrors like these. 

The more I stared at the object, the more terrible it ap- 
peared. At last it waved a long tail like a serpent. I heard 
the tail strike against the chest. 

I dared look no longer, and shut my eyes. I saw things 
in my fancy after my eyes were shut, and I concluded that 
the object that I had thought I saw on the great travelling 
trunk was a matter of imagination like the rest. 



36O OVER THE ANDES. 

I tired myself out at last and fell asleep. When I woke 
it was light. There was a breeze from the river and a dewy- 
fragrance from the vines, and my head felt clearer and my 
fever seemed to have somewhat abated. 

I recalled my midnight terror, and as I looked toward the 
travelling trunk, I saw there a sight that filled me with such 
surprise that my pulses bounded and the fever came back 
again. I could feel my temples throb. 

On the trunk was the object that I had seen in the dim 
moonlight. It was unlike anything that I ever saw or imag- 
ined. It was like a church-tower gargoyle, only it was alive. 

I started up in my bed. I dared not attempt to dress, and 
should I go to the door it might leap upon me. 

I pounded on the wooden partition at the head of my bed, 
and cried, — 

"Senor ! " 

There was no response. 

Then I cried again, giving the word the true accent. 

" Sehoj- / " 

People sleep in the mornings at Guayaquil, and are not to 
be easily aroused. 

I next cried, — 

"Muchacho (boy) ! " 

I recalled that there were boys on the place. 

There was no answer. 

"Muchac/m (girl) ! " 

There were girls, I recalled, who worked in the cook-room. 
One of them might be awake at this hour. But the house 
and premises were as silent as though they were uninhabited. 

" Senorita ! " 



GUAYAQUIL. 36 1 

Only the breeze from the river broke the stillness. 

" Senora ! " 

Still no movement. 

I looked again toward the trunk. There the awful object 
was. My veins seemed bursting, and I called at the top of 
my voice, — 

" Mozo ! Muza ! (man-servant, maid-servant)." 

There was a light step outside my door, and a soft voice 
said, " What does the American gentleman want ? " 

It was a little man-servant. 

" There is something in my room." 

"What shall I do?" 

" Go and call your master." 

" He forbids us to wake him at this hour." 

He tried to open the door. 

" If the American gentleman will unlock the door, I will 
come in." 

" I do not dare to leave my bed. There is something on 
my trunk." 

" How does it look, Senor ? " 

"It is awful!" 

" Has it a head ? " 

" Yes, a head like a man, with his throat hanging down." 

" Has he a body ? " 

"Yes, like a saw." 

" Has he a tail ? " 

"Yes, like a serpent." 

" The American gentleman has a fever. If he will open 
the door, I will help him." 

" I dare not get out of bed. Beat in the door." 



362 OVER THE ANDES. 

" That would arouse master, and he would be angry." 

Just then there was a swarm of flies in the room, and the 
terrible object opened his mouth, and threw out a tongue 
that riveted my eyes upon its head with a new terror. 

"Mozo/" I cried. "Oh, if you were in here now! He 
has opened his mouth ! He is an evil spirit ! " 

" Shall I call the priest ? " asked the man in alarm. " I 
will go around and look into the window. I think that the 
American gentleman has a fever." 

He went around to the window, and pushed away the 
vines and looked in. 

He grinned and whistled. 

At the whistle the terrible object threw up its serpent-like 
tail, and I pressed my hands against my throbbing head. 

"That is nothing," said the servant, "only an iguana. He 
got in through the bars. He is harmless. I will catch him, 
and we will have him for dinner." 

I felt that all this must be illusion from the fever. 

The little servant began to pull at, one by one, the iron 
bars. He loosened one, pushed it aside, and crawled into 
the room. He passed by the dragon without fear and un- 
locked the door and went out. 

He came back presently with a stick, having a long cord 
with a noose. 

" Does the American gentleman want to see how we catch 
'em in this country ? " he asked. 

He began to whistle. The dragon-like creature threw up 
his head to listen. 

The mozo then tickled his neck with the end of the rod, 
and whistled again. Then the man threw the noose over his 



GUAYAQUIL. 363 

head and jerked him to the floor. When the animal, or what- 
ever he was, fell, he began to swell up. I could endure no 
more. I leaped from my bed and ran out of the door. 

It was all a real occurrence, and not a delirium. 

The living gargoyle or dragon was an iguana, and when 
next I saw him he had been well cooked, and was laid out on 
the table as harmless as he had been the night before. 

In the afternoon my fever returned, and my sickness saved 
me from ridicule. 

The planter said when I was better : " You thought that 
an iguana was a dragon. The fever takes such forms in this 
country." 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

PANAMA THE HARBOR OF PEARLS THE STORY OF THE 

ASTROLOGER OF DARIEN. 

UNHEALTHY is Panama, but as beautiful and romantic 
in its decay as its health is malarious to the ordinary 
traveller. The Island of Pearls lies fair in the purple ocean, 
as in the days of that most fortunate and yet unfortunate of 
adventurers, Nunez Balboa. 

The Isthmus of Panama, or the Isthmus of Darien, is 
associated with some of the most picturesque events in early 
American history, — with the vanished names of Castilla del 
Oro and Nombre de Dios, with Aspinwall (Colon), and the 
Spanish Main. 

The ancient town of Panama, which is in the province or 
state of the same name, and a part of the Republic of 
Colombia, formerly New Granada, has a very fine and safe 
harbor, though ships commonly anchor some distance from 
the quays. Here were the once famous pearl fields, the 
scene of the pearl fisheries, which, like the emeralds of 
the river Esmeralda in Ecuador, once made the heart of 
the adventurer turn to the coasts of the West Indian seas. 

The peak of Darien stands as a monument to the discovery 
of the Pacific and recalls the life of a very remarkable 
character, — Balboa. 

364 



PANAMA. 365 

He belonged to an impoverished Spanish family, and was 
a poor debtor on the island of San Domingo when he heard 
the Sindbad-like tales that the voyagers and the discoverers 
told of the Spanish Main. 

Flying from debt in San Domingo, he secreted himself in 
a barrel or cask on board of one the ships about to sail in the 
interests of American discovery, and when found, begged 
the mercy of the commander of the expedition, and so found 
himself on the way to the El Dorados of the western waters. 
His romantic adventures are well known in outline, but Our 
Boys heard of a strange legend of him at Panama at the 
consulate, which we will give as the last of the consular 
stories in this volume. 

THE ASTROLOGER OF DARIEN. 

We make no claims for astrology. If one were to examine 
the so-called science on the side of the predictions that did 
not come true, one's views on the subject would be likely to 
become doubtful or adverse, but the story that we have to tell 
has suggestions beyond what may seem to be marvellous in it. 

The life of Vasco Nunez de Balboa as an adventurer in 
Darien began in 15 10. He was able to gather harvests of 
gold from the caciques or lords of the country, and as he sent 
one-fifth of this treasure to Spain, his name held a high 
record at court. 

One day in a division of the treasure, the Spaniards were 
weighing out gold in the presence of a young cacique. In 
their greed they began to quarrel with each other. The 
young Indian lord, who had looked upon them as gods, was 



366 OVER THE ANDES. 

amazed at such a petty exhibition of selfishness and avarice, 
and exclaimed, — 

" Why should you dispute about trifles like these ? If gold 
is what you desire, I can direct you to a region where you 
may find all the gold that your ships can hold." 

" Where?" exclaimed the adventurers. 

He pointed towards the south. " See you yonder moun- 
tains?" he asked; "beyond them is a mighty sea. The 
rivers that flow into that sea roll over beds of gold. The 
caciques of that country feast from vessels of gold." 

" How may I know that beyond the mountains lies a sea ?" 
asked Balboa. 

" A high peak rises over the country. It is a perilous 
journey to the peak. There are fierce tribes on the way. Go 
over the mountains with an army of strong men, and you 
shall see the peak ; ascend the peak, and you shall behold 
the sea. It is a glorious sight ! " 

Balboa had headed a revolt in Darien ; had sent the gov- 
ernor to sea in a crazy ship, and had made himself master of 
the colony. He had won the favor of rich caciques. He 
was becoming very rich. He felt sure that fame as well as 
greater riches would be a part of his destiny, — that he was a 
man with a star. 

Among the adventurers in Darien was a Venetian as- 
trologer, by the name of Micer Codro. 

Balboa's conscience may have been ill at ease in regard 
to the manner in which he sent away the former governor 
and secured to himself treasures of the forest lords ; we do 
not know, but one day he betook himself to the Italian star 
reader, and said, — 



PANAMA. 367 

" Micer Codro, I wish you to cast my horoscope, and to 
tell me all that awaits me." 

The dark Italian studied Balboa's birthday and the sup- 
posed fateful stars. 

" Come to me to-night." 

Balboa obeyed the astrologer, and went to him. 

The Italian led him out in view of the sky and pointed out 
to him a certain star, and said, — 

" When you shall see that star in the part of the heavens 
indicated on the horoscope which I am about to give you, 
your life will be in great peril. Should you pass that event 
you will become one of the most renowned men of the Indies, 
and the richest captain of the Spanish Main." 

On the 26th of September, 15 13, Balboa, emerging from a 
tropical forest, beheld the peak which he had long seen in 
his dreams. He ascended the mountain alone ; he found it 
as the young lord had said ; the Pacific rolled before him ; 
he went down into the sea covered with the banner of the 
Castilian sovereigns, and took possession of the country in 
the name of Spain. 

He planted a cross on the mountain ; a Te Deum was 
sung, and he assured his followers that if they would con- 
tinue to follow him, unexampled wealth and fame should be 
theirs. 

He returned, and sent to Spain the news of his great 
discovery. His name filled Spain. 

The poor debtor of the cask now felt that his glory was 
assured. The star that had led him on would lead him on. 

But Spain sent a new governor to Darien, with directions 
that Balboa should serve under him as a leader of expeditions 



368 OVER THE ANDES. 

to the realms of gold. The two met kindly, and to make 
peace between them secure, Balboa married the governor's 
daughter. Balboa went forth as an explorer ; he harvested 
riches ; his star still seemed to lead him on. 

His fame, riches, and popularity excited the jealousy of the 
governor. The latter knew how he had disposed of a former 
governor ; he feared his power ; he resolved to recall him 
on some friendly pretext, and to find some occasion to put 
him to death. 

One serene evening, Balboa and some companions were 
out on the shore of Isla Rica. The heavens were clear, and 
the explorer looked up to the stars. 

Exactly in the place in the horoscope shone the star that 
the Italian had warned him to fear when he should behold 
it in that position. 

But he had become so rich and famous that the sight of 
the ill omen did not excite him to caution. 

"What folly," he said, "to believe in the words of astrolo- 
gers, especially in those of Micer Codro ! According to his 
words, I should now be in peril of my life, whereas I was 
never more secure. I have the favor of Spain, of the gov- 
ernor, of the caciques, and abundant wealth, and you are all 
trusty and true followers." 

There came to him a messenger, bearing a note from the 
governor. It was very gracious. It asked his presence at a 
council on public affairs. 

" See how I am respected and honored," he exclaimed. 

He indeed may have had little occasion to fear the sup- 
posed influence of the star, but he had been an intriguing 
man, and he had good reason to fear that his own conduct 



PANAMA. , 369 

would be decisive of his fate. In all wrongdoing there is 
an evil star. 

He would go to the governor. If the star had no message 
for him, he might yet have learned prudence from his own 
habits. But he did not. He left the Pacific, and crossed 
the mountains alone. He hurried towards the palace of his 
father-in-law. He rushed upon the snare. 

On his way to Acla, the place of the governor, he met 
some old friends who came out to warn him of treachery. 
He was greatly astonished. 

" Why should the governor regard me with any disfavor ? " 
he said ; " he but recently gave his daughter to me." 

He was soon met by an armed band. 

" I have been sent out to arrest you," said the commander. 

" I have done nothing to cause my arrest. On what 
charge do you arrest me ? " 

" On the charge of high treason." 

He was seized. The charge was sustained by a mock 
court, and the head of Balboa, the discoverer of the Pacific, 
was erelong to be seen hanging on a tall pole in Acla, under 
the clear, bright stars that had fated him no ill. Treachery 
becomes the victim of treachery by its own law. 

And here at Panama, so much of the journey of Our Boys 
must come to an end. If the reader would know more of 
Balboa, let him turn to Irving's " Voyages and Discoveries 
of the Companions of Columbus." 

From Panama Our Boys will hope to go to Mexico, and to 
Costa Rica, and Costa Rica's beautiful capital, San Jose. 
Thence to Lake Nicaragua, and the scenes of the proposed 



37° OVER THE ANDES. 

new waterway through the three Americas to the Pacific 
parts of the old and new worlds. Adios, Arline and Loro, 
and the educational visions of great-minded, large-hearted 
Elizabeth Peabody ! Adios, for the present, practical Alonzo, 
susceptible Leigh, and benevolent Uncle Henry, whose soul 
had really become more sunny in the sun lands ! Adios, all ! 
The journey has been a rapid one, but it has yielded many 
lessons of life. Vaya V. con Bios ! 



THE END. 



W. A. Wilde 6r> Co., Publishers. 



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Cannot fail to be of value in the hands of all Sunday-school workers. — IV. H. Hall, 
Secy 0/ Conn. State S. S. Association. 

This book absolutely covers every phase of Sunday-school work in a clear, instruc- 
tive manner, and cannot fail to be of marked benefit to every worker. Send for sample 
pages. 

nPECIAL SONGS AND SER VLCESfor Primary and 
kj Intermediate Classes. Compiled by Mrs. M. G. Kennedy. 160 
pp. Price, 45 cents; $40.00 per hundred. 

The book contains Exercises for Christmas, Easter, Children's Day, Harvest, etc.; 
Lessons on Lord's Prayer, Commandments, Books of the Bible, Missions, and many 
other subjects. Adapted to Primary and Intermediate Classes, Junior Endeavor Socie- 
ties, etc. 

It has ninety pages of new, bright music for all occasions, including a large number 
of Motion Songs that are now so popular. We feel sure the book will prove instructive, 
interesting, and entertaining. It is printed on heavy paper, bound in board covers. 
Sample pages sent on application. 

Boston: W. A. Wilde 6° Co., 25 Brom field Street. 
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